Unexpected Afterlife
by Enemony
Summary: An Imperial warship is transported back in time to the 2nd millennium after the fall of Cadia. Unfortunately for the loyalist, it was not the only warship transported back in time.
1. Chapter 1

**With the release of the new batch of PR ships for Azur lane, I've found a good way to introduce the crossover which I'll now be sticking with. End of Story.**

 **Hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

Monarch had spent an unknown amount of time traversing the endless expanse of nothingness which was the realm of the neverborne, the place between the living and the afterlife where ships lived, biding their time until hopefully they would be called into action by the mortal realm, their immense power once more needing to be brought upon whatever enemy their masters and leaders had deemed necessary.

Many had already answered a call, or the call. Some great calamity had struck the world of the living which went beyond borders and political alliances. Humanity itself was at stake. Monarch did not know what it was, but since she had yet to be summoned, the prideful battleship thought nothing of it. If the mortal realm did not need her strength, then they would be able to survive without her.

And that was her life, traversing the endless land of shadows that was her realm, formless apparitions constantly flitting at the edges of her vision like predatory sharks. Though there was nothing to fear from them, they were certainly an irritation. It was a realm of almost complete darkness, only a dim and hazy white light coming from a star, high up in the realm which Monarch called home. It was a truly dismal place, filled with nothing but hopeful dreams tinged with the cynicism of reality. A place of broken dreams and unanswered requests for the shipgirls who called it home.

Of the others, Monarch had not seen another soul in days, perhaps weeks, if the passing of time had any authority over the realm of the neverborne. The battleship knew it was a truly vaste a desolate place, with the girls marking out their own lands like a predatory animal. As such, there was barely interaction, and what there was, was brief and more often than not, conversation was boring and uninteresting.

Monarch truly hated the place, and wanted more than anything for it to change. And change it would.

At the far distance of her vision, a light appeared out of the eternal darkness that was her realm, like the shine of a lighthouse during a midnight storm, or more simply, a bright light at the end of an endlessly long tunnel. Either way, it was suspicious, and Monarch eyed the thing with suspicion, even as a part of her unconscious bade that she advance towards the golden light.

Was this her calling, or was it simply a figment of her fatigued mind. Was it her soul playing a trick on her eyes to temporarily lift her spirits? Or was it something more substantial?

Either way, the light changed, expanding into a portal which could easily accommodate a person of her build and height. Out from the newly formed portal stepped a figure, tall, noble, and impossibly perfect.

An angel if there ever was one.

The figure was clad in gleaming golden armour, a single blood red teardrop adorning his chest above a gleaming spread eagle carved into his breastplate. White wings framed the man's head, golden locks streaming down past his neck and a stern but caring visage on the mans face.

It was not what Monarch was expecting. She was expecting a normal human, if any at all to first greet her, not a literal angel. The battleship was unnerved, even at the distance that she was from the gleaming golden portal. The eyes of the man were upon her, she felt him first scrutinize her form, before poking around in her mind, examining her thoughts and desires, fears and needs.

Still, Monarch kept walking, ever closer, the golden light starting to bath her body in a harsh light, as if purifying it for the coming journey through reality. Try as she might, she could not bring herself to stop and think, before committing herself to the goal that she had unconsciously set herself. Something about it felt intrinsically right, as if fate itself was guiding her hand and body towards her upcoming reality. The battleship was a firm believer in the power of fate, and as such, consigned herself to continue her march towards the angel standing beside the light. It was foolish, almost impossible to change the hand of fate unless one possessed almost immeasurable power, something that Monarch did not possess.

Eventually, she stopped in front of the portal, only a few feet away from her now, the light almost blinding in its intensity. Shielding her amethyst eyes from the light, she turned to her left to look up at the angel that now towered over her, also emitting a golden glow of his own. Slowly, and with a deliberate motion, he raised an armoured hand to point at the portal.

Again, Monarch obeyed the wordless order without question, having now fully realised that she was bound by the fate that the nameless angel had given her.

Taking one last glance back to the darkness of her previous home, where she had spent countless eternities aimlessly wandering the darkened wastes, waiting for her calling. Now that the event was upon her though, she embraced it willingly, understanding that she had to serve, no matter what her other desires wanted, and that is what she would do.

Wasting no further time, Monarch heeded the angel's command and stepped into the golden portal to begin her new existence.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another sub realm of the land between the living and the dead, Georgia was idly lounging around her mansion that she'd made for herself. The thing about the realm that herself and the other unsummoned girls inhabited, was that one could bend their surroundings to their liking using their minds alone. Georgia liked it, she always liked a good display of grandeur, and the fact that she lived in a sprawling mansion suited her just fine. However, the battleship knew that it was also completely false, not having been built by bricks and stone, rather by a figment of her mind.

Either way, it did not matter, for she was currently setting up her study for a little tea party with the light cruiser Atlanta. The little girl was a little bit of a handful sometimes, though Georgia always liked to spent time with the crowning jewel of her state. She did find it a little bit odd, that after a long period of silence - which Georgia thought signified the fact that the girl had been summoned to whatever war required their aid - the light cruiser had returned, and had immediately asked for a little chat and a meet up which they'd been doing regularly before Atlanta was summoned.

Perhaps she had died in the field of battle, or that she'd once more been decommissioned and sent off for scrapping now that her duty was done. Georgia didn't get to ponder the current events any further, as she heard a knock at the front door and a pair of feet striding along the plush carpets of the mansion's halls.

Quickly turning around from her preparations, Georgia strode to the door of her study to let Atlanta in, the food and drinks having been laid out to the battleships exacting standards.

"Hi" the light cruiser waved with a big smile plastered on her face, just like the many times she had walked down the corridor before.

"Nice to see you Atlanta, long time no see" Georgia smiled back as she let the smaller girl into the room.

Walking across to her well-worn seat, she slid a bottle of coke across her desk, knowing that it was a favorite of Atlanta, while she poured herself a steaming hot cup of herbal tea.

"What brings you back to this place then" the battleship continued after they'd gotten themselves comfortable. "I must admit, I am curious. I thought you were still fighting that war which most of the girls got summoned to."

"Yeah… about that…" Atlanta immediately started to stare down at the floor, a tell tale sign that Georgia had hit a nerve within the assertive light cruiser. "There was, is a war going on on Earth, but not against countries, but against an invader."

"Like extraterrestrial?" Georgia asked in between sips of tea.

"Yup" Atlanta started to nod her head, still staring intently at one of the table legs.

"So why did you arrive back here?" The battleship gestured to the pocket realm around her, deciding that it would be good to get the awkwardness over with quickly so that the two Georgian's could get back to friendly conversation.

"Well isn't it obvious?" Atlanta took a deep swig of her coke, a scowl on her face.

"So you did die" Georgia quitely sighed, giving the little girl opposite her a caring look. "Want to tell me how it happened?"

"Nope" the light cruiser shook her head. "Still not ready for it" she quietly said as she gave the battleship a brief sideways glance.

"Alright" Georgia nodded, deciding not to press the point. Seeing the usually proud girl reduced to a fragile thing, Georgia could hazard that it wasn't a particularly painless death. For a moment, she pondered what dying would be like, before quickly shaking the morbid thought from her mind. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"I suppose there is" Atlanta finally decided to look back up at her friend and motherly figure, her blue eyes slightly glassy with unshed tears, an unsettling smile now plastered over the light cruisers face.

"Are you really alright?" Georgia worriedly cocked her head. "You have a strange expression on your face."

"I'm actually feeling perfectly fine, thanks" Atlanta leaned forward, the unsettling smile growing in intensity as she did. Unconsciously, Georgia shuffled back into the ample padding of her seat.

"The thing is, someone came to me with an offer just as I was dying" Atlanta set her empty bottle down on the table in front of her with an ominous clunk. "He made me an offer that I could never, ever refuse."

"And… and what was that? Georgia asked, a deeply dangerous feeling having settled in the pit of her stomach. She at least wanted to hear her fellow Georgian out before she did something rash.

"He told me how he plans to reshape the Earth, with a godly vision in mind. Throw away the old, rotting order, to bring enlightenment to that fractured and corrupted place."

"You believe all of that?" The battleship asked, nowhere near convinced. "Why do you need to come back here to this place when you should be on earth doing whatever is required of you?"

"That is a good question" Atlanta's voice started to change in pitch, morphing from the chirpy tones of a typical young girl, into a feral, guttural growl. Georgia was now seriously worried, but stayed her hand for the moment. She knew that if it came to it, she could easily kill the girl... thing in front of her quickly and sustain little to no damage in the process if it came to it.

"I quite liked him, the person I talked to" Atlanta leaned forward across the table, projecting a mental image two times larger than her own physical form. "That's a lie actually" the girl smirked. "I really liked him, and what he said made a lot of sense."

"You were dying though" Georgia sighed, giving Atlanta a very suspicious look with her heterochromatic eyes. "Why agree to something when you are in such physical and mental pain?"

"He said that he could make it all go away" the light cruiser simply replied as she started to skirt around the table.

"Of course he did" the battleship shook her head in disbelief, mimicking the light cruisers steps around the table, trying very hard to let her anxiety show in her body language. "Do you understand how utterly predictable that is?"

Atlanta shrugged, as she tried to close the distance, Georgia making 100% sure to keep the solid bulk of the mahogany table between herself and the girl that she no longer thought was the Atlanta that she knew.

"Enough sidetracking though" the girl continued in the same guttural, demonic growl. "I suppose you should know this much" a distinct air of finality in the light cruisers tone. "My master told me that to truly become one of his allies, I'd have to come to terms with my friends and loved ones." She spat the last two words out as if it were some vile poison. "And you're the only one left."

"So you've killed your sisters, your friends, and now you're coming for me?" Georgia connected the dots in her head.

"If you want to believe that version of events, then so be it" Atlanta shrugged, her blue eyes now aflame with balefire. "You won't live long enough to find out the answer anyway" she proclaimed as she launched herself forward with an insane turn of speed.

Georgia reacted just in time, but still got hit by a glancing blow from the things talons. Turning, she looked face to face with the demon before her, no vestige of the light cruiser Atlanta present on the things form.

Stabbing its gleaming golden sword into the carpeted floor, the many-headed bird emitted an ear-shattering screech as the pocket realm that Georgia had fashioned started to fall apart like broken glass.

The floor fractured and cracked, hellish purple light seeping through the cracks, an unseen and unheard explosion of untold power blew the mansion apart, blowing Georgia well into the immaculate gardens which surrounded her now destroyed home. Only now the lush green grass was dead and dying, the perfectly trimmed rose bushes now sentient abominations which tried to tie her in place.

For a second, the battleship thought that she'd been given a little bit of breathing space to come up with a plan. The thought only lasted for an infinitesimal amount of time though, for the demon... bird thing was upon her in an instant, bending the laws of the realm to suite its ends.

With another ear-splitting shriek, which knocked Georgia to the ground, the thing summoned a portal with its blade, pushing itself and the battleship through.

For Georgia, everything went black as the thing tore apart her mind.

* * *

Georgia screamed for what felt like an eternity, her mind being meticulously torn apart piece by piece, the demon… thing very much enjoying the whole experience. The battleship felt her mind unravel, her conscious thoughts slipping from her control like someone trying to stop a raging current with their bare hands. Georgia was certain that she would die to the demon that had taken over her friend Atlanta.

Forcing her head away from the horrible, demonic bird, Georgia was met with the inky blackness of the void, the darkness crowding in on her, her eyes itchy as half-formed faces silently screamed out at her from oblivion.

Just before her mind shut down from the sheer agony of the demons assault, a new voice - not the screeching, wretched voice of the bird, but that of another human - violently forced itself into her remaining conscious thoughts.

WIth a harsh and commanding tone, the voice practically shouted his first command. " _Listen to me_!" it said. " _If you wish to live for more than the next few minutes, you will do exactly as I command._ "

Sending a mental affirmative back to the mysterious human who may just save her, Georgia focused her mind on the voice, and the serene calm it brought with it. The battleship let it wash over her mind, using the holy energy to retake portions of her soul which had been stolen away by the demon.

" _That thing that assails you has a name. The first step in defeating an opponent, especially a servant of the Changer of Ways, is to know what it is called. This specific abomination is known as 'Master Darkeye.' Muster your voice, and scream out its name, do as I say!_ "

'Master Darkeye' Georgia rolled the name around her mind as she tried to regained control of her mouth. Having done both of those tasks, she opened her lips and screamed the things name at the top of her lungs.

It was as if an invisible force had been released from her mouth, as it knocked the demonic bird from its feet, momentarily stopping its assault on Georgia's mind to regard her with a tilt of its feathery head.

"It seems that you have found an ally in this fight of ours. I think I need to find out who exactly this unlikely friend of yours is."

Creating a ball of energy from its clawed hands, Darkeye thrust it forward into Georgia's head.

The battleship screamed once more, screamed so hard that all moisture left her mouth and her voice became hoarse. She felt her mind being dismantled with a previously unfelt determination from the 'Changer of Ways' whatever that meant. It seemed that Georgia had found herself a powerful ally if the demon was getting desperate to finish off its prey before it lost the advantage.

Georgia clutched her head, and collapsed into a fetal position, her eyes wide with horror as her sanity slipped through her fingers, feeling the last of her soul being siphoned away, feeling parts of her body shutting down as the battleship slowly turned into a lifeless husk.

However, once again, she was saved just when she was about to lose all her mental strength. But this time, it was not a voice, rather a shining beacon of blinding white light which shot out of her heterochromatic eyes.

It crashed against the demon's skin, charring feathers and blistering the thick hide beneath it. Again, the act was enough to give the monstrosity pause. Only this time, Georgia's saviour had thought about a follow through to the momentary advantage.

WIth neither conscious, or unconscious thought of her own, Georgia felt an energy push herself back up to her feet. Looking left and right to her arms and body, the battleship saw that she was now sheathed in a golden light, nullifying and deflecting the majority of Darkeye's now very concentrated assault. The attacks that pierced her new defenses now felt hollow and dull compared to the unimaginable pain which she had been in just a few moments prior.

The voice of the man once more returned to the forefront of Georgia's mind. " _I have now granted you my power_ " it sternly said. " _Use the weapon that I have given you to strike the demon down. If you do that, you'll give yourself, and by extension me, enough time to escape back to the mortal plane. Do your task quickly however, for I am mortally wounded and my powers are not inexhaustible_."

As the voice of her soon to be saviour left her mind, Georgia felt the reassuring weight of a weapon in her right hand. Glancing over, she saw a gleaming, golden, ethereal sword in her hand.

Taking a calming breath, she focused her mind into a state of supreme calm as she roared the demons name.

"Darkeye" Georgia shouted the things name in a deadly challenge. Charging forward, she felt horrors trying to slow down her progress towards her prey, trying to buy their master sometime.

It availed them not, as the battleship used her incredible bulk to smash through the ethereal roadblocks with her forward momentum.

Gaining speed as she closed the distance, she locked heterochromatic eyes with the sinister purple slits of the demon of change, feeling a sharp pain flair up in her mind.

The battleship ignored it, her mind focused singularly on striking the horrific monstrosity down.

Raising the sword, Georgia took it in a two-handed grip, launching herself off the ground of her would be prison and tomb, to take the head off the gargantuan monster.

Screaming with unbridled rage, she cleaved downwards, shattering the demon's sword in two as Georgia cleaved the birds head in twain with one devastating blow.

Instantly, she felt the realm that she'd been trapped in collapse in on itself like a dying star, feeling the ground give in beneath her as she fell downwards through the warp. The golden aura shielded her from the horrors that assailed her and tried to pluck her from her fall to intern Georgia in a new prison.

Ahead of her, in the distance, out of the swirling mass of reddy purple energy, a portal opened up, fighting against the energy which constituted the accursed place which Georgia was falling through.

Knowing that she didn't have much time, the battleship angled herself towards the light, placing her arms in front of her head to make herself as streamlined as possible. Georgia didn't know if it was the change in her stance which allowed her to reach the portal, or if it was her sheer willpower which sped her forward.

Either way, she made it, as she landed hard on the floor of an apothecary, very much back in the realm of mortals. Human serfs turned around in utter shock, a number of heavily armoured figures cocked bolters and slowly advanced on her position, all while a bare-chested superhuman with a strange, supernatural energy about him sat bolt upright in his cot to look and stare directly into Georgia's soul.


	2. Chapter 2

Georgia shook her head as she picked herself up off the floor, dizzy and out of balance, she had a stonking headache which rang throughout her head. With blurry heterochromatic eyes, she looked at the squad of armoured soldiers slowly advancing on her position with strong, purposeful strides.

They were clad in surprisingly ornate blue and gold armour, with an upside-down omega symbol stamped onto one of the pauldrons. From the looks of it, it looked like Georgia would have to give herself up to the menacing warriors. However, the very recently awoken superhuman who was still staring intently at the battleship called off the soldiers with a simple command. It seemed that her strange new ally commanded a position of respect in the strange place which she'd found herself.

It was then that the human serfs knocked themselves out of their stupors, as a number of them started to rush towards Georgia's saviour with advanced looking scanners and medical equipment in hand.

With Georgia's vision returning to a decent version of normality, she glanced at the squad of soldiers still eyeing her with suspicion, and the work that the serfs were doing to their master. From the way the normal humans were fretting over their charge, the battleship guessed that the man had been out cold for some time.

Using her enhanced hearing, Georgia could hear the sounds of battle from outside the apothecary walls, the constant boom of gunfire interspersed with large explosions told the story of an impossibly large battle unfolding somewhere nearby.

After a further half an hour, the superhuman slipped out of his cot and donned a simple robe. Turning around, he spoke in exactly the same voice which he'd used when Georgia was stuck in the warp. "Come, it is time we moved." The man commanded.

Unconsciously, Georgia followed the man past the armoured soldiers who stared at her like hawks as she passed by them. In the back of her mind, she could have sworn that she was being mind controlled. Although, the battleship didn't think on it much. She would have no idea what to do in the situation she'd found herself in anyway so was actually pleased that someone knew what was going on.

Striding into a long, wide arched corridor, Georgia's temporary guide started to speak again. "You have many questions, I can tell."

Understatement, Georgia thought, having a pretty good hunch that the man was reading her mind.

"It was useful that you came when you did" he continued. "I was weak, and the demon had taken the chance to imprison my soul within the warp, preventing me from waking up from my coma. You were the vessel that I used to free my mind from the trap the monster had set, while also freeing you and banishing the servant of the 'Changer of Ways' for the time being."

As the still unnamed man said this, Georgia noticed more of the armoured warriors rushing up and down the wide thoroughfare, leading further credence to the idea that something was under heavy siege.

There were a million and one questions whirling around in Georgia's mind. What was this place? Who were these people? Why was she here? The most pressing ones for the time being.

Her guide decided to ignore her questions as he continued. "A great calamity struck this galaxy a number of years ago. It was a planet, called Cadia which held back the immaterium - the place where you did battle with the demon - was destroyed by an invasion without number. You saw how much emotions have an effect on that realm, correct?"

Georgia nodded, reminding herself of how the shapeless ghouls which circled the battlefield had been bent to the overpowering presence of the demon birds will.

"I am attuned to that place. It is a cruel gift." The man led Georgia down a side passage and through a large bulkhead guarded by automated gun turrets. On the other side of the portal, the battleship's surroundings became more ornate, signifying that people of supreme merit resided in the place which she'd entered. "It mortally wounded me, forcing me into a coma as my weak mind was ensnared by 'Master Darkeye'".

"What is this place?" Georgia dumbly blurted out as she stared at the beautiful iconography adorning the walls of the passages that they walked.

"This is the Fortress of Hera" Varro Tigurius replied, having implanted his name in the battleships mind. "It a mighty fortress situated on the world of Macragge, a capital world within the Imperium of Man."

Georgia had no idea what any of that actually meant. But she could easily infer that the place was of utmost importance for the intense battle raging outside, the sounds of war still occasionally filtering into the halls that she and Tigurius walked.

Eventually, the pair alighted at an armoury of sorts, filled with ancient relic weapons and gilded suits of armour. "Decimus, if you will" Varro called out. A robed serf answering the call a moment later, a pair of mechanical, humanoid constructs flanking the man.

"You called master?" The serf reverently replied, bowing his head in supplication.

"I have rested long enough. It is time that I came to my chapters aid and added my strength to the defence of the fortress."

"As you wish" Decimus nodded his head, tapping a number of buttons on a nearby console, a suit of armour encased within a stasis chamber detaching itself from the wall.

Taking his place on an elevated harness, his arms outstretched, Tigurius continued talking to his serf, all while Georgia curiously looked on. "I need you to contact the Chapter Master, I require an audience with him now that I am awake."

"Unfortunately, that is not possible at the moment my lord" Decimus replied. "Marneus Calgar is currently coordinating the defence of the fortress from the Chaos onslaught."

"I see" Tigurius narrowed his eyes in thought as his vambraces were slid onto his arms and locked into place.

"Georgia" he then turned to the battleship. "Since you are here, your destiny and your mission in this place not yet complete, you will help with the defence of the fortress."

"And what of my nature, and the fact that I am a woman?"

"Of no concern" Tigurius grunted as his chestplate was fitted, bundles of cables and sensors sliding into ports on his back. "My reputation, and the orders of the Chapter Master will stop anyone questioning why you are here at this time. Although I would caution against using the powers vested in you to avoid the gazes of those of whom neither myself or the Chapter Master can protect you from."

"I have a purpose here?" Georgia cocked her head, confused.

"Otherwise why would you be here?" Tigurius retorted, now fully armoured in the ornate armour of his station. "Your kind has been sent to war on ancient Terra against an alien race, one which has been tainted by the foul forces of Chaos. You saw for yourself how your friend was twisted by the thing inhabiting her soul. You have been sent here to prepare for what is going to come to pass on ancient Terra in the coming months and years."

In response, Georgia slowly took in the information, pleased that she finally had some context as to why she was where she was. Still, there were many, many more questions than answers which she hoped would eventually be answered or reasoned out.

"As for now, your purpose is to help shore up the defences of this fortress against those that assail it."

On cue, Decimus appeared in front of the battleship, a weapon held in his outstretched hands. "This is a bolter my lady" the man quietly said. "It is a simple, honest, and powerful weapon. Treat it well and it will see you through the coming battles."

Gratefully accepting the unexpected gift, Georgia hefted the weapon in her hands, feeling the reassuringly solid weight of the weapon. Surprisingly, it helped to calm the storm still raging in her mind. The battleship still had no idea what the hell was going on. But perhaps more interestingly, and perhaps worryingly, she felt an unnatural power quietly residing in the recesses of her mind.

Although, she threw all those thoughts aside as she followed the Chief Librarian out of the arming chamber and out into the main thoroughfares of the fortress interior. She was going to war, a simple exercise to occupy the mind in killing first, before the thing attacking killed you.

* * *

Monarch stepped out of the portal. It was an unpleasant sensation having one's innards rearranged many times over the course of a second or so. Either way, she shook her head and stood up straight, surveying the vast and desolate landscape arrayed before her.

It was a deserted land of rusty red sand blown up into huge dust storms which scoured Monarchs face dry with their intensity. Large, rolling sand dunes inched forward, ever so slowly at a tectonic rate, fuelled by the intense winds which buffeted the battleship.

Shielding her eyes with her arm, Monarch squinted azure eyes to survey the landscape, to see if she could find where the angel was.

After a minute of searching, she came up with nothing, and glancing behind her, saw that the portal Monarch had stepped through had sealed, with no trace remaining of it. A brief break in the ruddy, orange clouds allowed the battleship to look up to the stars, to see swirling tendrils of hellish purple energy spearing across the darkened sky. Of the planets sun, she could see no trace.

With no clue as to compass bearings, Monarch decided to step off the rocky outcrop she had materialised from and started walking through the dust storms and buffeting winds. The battleship got all of five metres before she paused to take off her shoes, high heels not being the most ideal clothing item for sandy terrain.

Gingerly padding across the scorching hot sands, Monarch saw the aftermath of battle. Human bodies clad in armour littered the landscape, some on their own, others in groups. For as far as the eye could see, the battleship saw bodies, both of the humans, and of some foul alien species straight out of a nightmare.

They had chitinous bodies, multiple eyes and razor-sharp appendages which looked like they could cut through bone like a hot knife through butter.

Some of the aliens were small, pathetic looking things, while others were monstrous beings easily the size of a two-storey building, having done battle with tanks and war walkers, the remains telling a story of a titanic battle.

Indeed, the entire area, with all of its dead, told of an almost incomprehensibly large battle which would have shaken the very foundations of the earth beneath. Still, Monarch could not tell who was the defender, and who was the aggressor. However, from out of the gloom of the dust clouds, a dark shape started to coalesce.

Momentarily, Monarch thought she'd have to defend herself. It thankfully did not have to happen, as she stumbled across the remains of a starship, easily over a kilometre in length as the hull disappeared into the swirling sands to her left and right. It seemed that an equally legendary battle had taken place in the sky above the planet.

Trudging through the death and destruction around her, Monarch momentarily gagged as the stench of death carried by the hot wind momentarily overwhelmed her. It was making her delirious. The battleship lost all sense of time and direction, trekking through the sand plains. A couple of hours had probably passed at most, but for the hot, sweaty, nauseous woman, it felt as though days had passed.

It was not how Monarch had envisaged her calling to be. She expected to be greeted with open arms as a saviour, shoved directly into the crucible of war defending her country from whatever threats demanded her attention. Not shuffling through some godforsaken desert on a dead and war-torn planet.

* * *

With her mouth as dry as the desert around her, Monarch felt herself collapse to the ground still amid the carnage which followed her aimless journey. She could not go on, her bones felt as though she had been walking for days without rest. The battleship was about to fall flat on her face with exhaustion when the stormy dust clouds momentarily cleared, revealing the golden figure of the angel half a kilometre in front of her, his armour seemingly untouched by the harsh and unforgiving conditions of the desert.

Aching, the red-haired woman picked herself up, walking towards the angel with a painful slowness which betrayed her physical weakness. She got there though, and with tired eyes, looked upon what the man was silently gesturing to.

It was the carcass of an alien leader. Rotting bundles of muscles told about a creature of immense power, the thing's body taller than a normal human even while lying down, and a huge brain of purply grey matter showed a cunning mind.

Pacing around the creature, Monarch spied the remains of its opponent. A human, in the faded heraldry of a position of supreme office. The armours chest plate ripped wide open from a large gash caused by the talons of the alien. The unhelmeted human was some five metres away, though his weapon was impaled in the brain of his opponent. Moving closer, the halberd was undamaged, shining resplendent, the sand and the passing of time seemingly having no effect on the master crafted blade.

"A great and terrible battle of survival is being waged on this planet" the angel's voice made Monarch turn around in shock, noticing the man was standing but a few paces away from her. "The galaxy as many know it is ending. Aliens and endless horrors now roam freely within the realms of man, with seemingly no answer being given in return apart from a stubborn will to survive. It is human nature after all, to weather and overcome. Yet I fear that this time, on this barren, yet holy planet, that is not going to suffice."

With sure strides, the angel started to pace around the alien leader as he continued. "Countless swarms of these creatures have assailed the human defenders of this planet. Each stronger and more terrible than the last. You have seen as much during your travels through this place. Every one exacting a toll on the defenders, each pushing them further back through their endless numbers. Many champions have fallen, and many are going to fall before the war has run its course." The angel stopped from his pacing to look at the armoured warrior which had faced the alien behemoth.

"Through successive assaults, the aliens have pushed the defenders back to their fortress, the Arx Angelicum. But even the thick and sturdy walls of that ancient place will be unable to stop the hordes which crash against its defences."

Turning, the man slid the halberd out of the alien's head, offering it to Monarch with an outstretched hand.

"Take it" the angel commanded. "It is an ancient weapon, thousands of years old which has been passed down through generations of Chapter Masters. It holds a place of untold significance to some of the defenders of the fortress and if it is returned to them, will give them peace knowing that yet some part of their Master lives on."

Monarch did not know exactly what the armoured human meant. But she also realised that the weapon was indeed significant just by looking at it.

Gingerly, she gripped the relic by the haft. With practised ease, she twirled the halberd around in her hands for a moment to get a feel for it. It was heavy, but also comfortable and perfectly balanced. The battleship also felt it rejuvenate her tired body and mind with its touch, burning away the dizziness in her head.

The angel was looking into the far distance as he spoke a few moments later. "You will return it to the remaining defenders at the fortress. That is the first task that I ask of you."

Following his gaze, Monarch aligned herself and pointed in the direction they were facing. Glancing over, she saw the angel subtlety nod his haloed head.

With that, Monarch started walking, the halberd held in an easy one-handed grip, the tip of one of the blades almost touching the sand below as she pulled her makeshift scarf over her face to shield her from the unkind elements.

With renewed vigour, and a clear purpose, she soon disappeared into the dust storms, her destination clear.


	3. Chapter 3

For what felt like miles, Georgia followed the Chief Librarian through the passages which made up the Fortress of Hera. As they descended through the vast structure, Georgia saw the point where the walls met the hard, impenetrable stone of the valley which the fortress was nestled within. Getting closer to what the battleship presumed was the main battlements, the concentration of the armoured warriors increased tenfold, as did the incredible roar of battle which was almost deafening.

Alighting at a vast blast door, Tigurius punched in a code to open a small door off to the side. Stepping through, he momentarily held it open for Georgia, the black-haired girl pausing in wonderment as just how thick the thing was. It was over ten metres thick with multiple smaller doors which had to be unlocked one by one to ensure maximum security.

Eventually, the two of them made it outside onto a section of the fortress walls. The first thing Georgia saw as she stepped out into the ruddy, overcast light, was a land utterly decimated by the siege. Nothing was growing, and the ground was churned up into a muddy mess, filled with the bodies of the dead, slowly being pounded into mulch by the engines of war which traversed the literal hellscape on the vast plains which the fortress overlooked.

There were tanks of immense size, packing firepower which could easily level city blocks in one salvo. Then there were hellish walkers straight out of a nightmare; spikes and horrifying symbols betraying their allegiances. And further in the background, somewhat shrouded by the haze of the horizon, titans slowly advanced, making the very earth shake with every step.

It was an impossible sight for Georgia to comprehend, let alone grasp the finer details, if there were any. To her confused mind, the entire siege looked like an unstoppable force crashing against an immovable object, a pointless and deadly meatgrinder.

Tigurius turned, having possibly read the incredible confusion the battleship was going through. He realised that the girl he had taken under his wing hadn't gone through any of the training and indoctrination which all within the chapter undertook regularly, and seeing how war was done in the 42nd millennium would be maddening and incomprehensible for someone who didn't belong in the timeline which Georgia was currently living.

So he turned around, and picked up the bolter which Georgia had dropped now that she was clutching her head with both hands, probably trying to rid herself of the maddening thoughts invading her mind. The battleship noticed and looked up at the Chief Librarian with heterochromatic eyes.

In the instant that the two made brief eye contact, Tigurius let a portion of his psychic might seep into Georgia's mind and soul to help her face down the monstrosities which humanity had to face in the 42nd millennium, and also to help her understand the tactics and the wider battle which was unfolding across Macragge.

It seemed to help, as she took the proffered weapon a moment later and followed the Librarian to the points on the battlements that needed their aid the most.

The Fortress of Hera was under intense siege, as was the capital of Macragge which the bastion overlooked. Not only were the Chaos invaders knocking on the main fortress gates, but they were also scaling the walls, using ladders, portals and jump packs to try and gain a foothold which they could leverage to break open the stubborn Imperial defence.

A couple of weeks ago, the Imperial defence had ceded control of the space above the planet to the invading armada, the might of the Imperial Navy unable to stem the tide of Chaos reinforcements which flooded the planet. The defenders were suffering, having lost control of most of the planet to the Chaos horde. Only the major population sites were still under Imperial control along with a few key spaceports and the Fortress of Hera.

* * *

Georgia was happy that Tigurius had given her some mental encouragement, and his powers had allowed her to get a hold of herself enough to understand sort of what was going on. Still, her heart was pounding within her chest and her nerves were on fire. She was about to go to war for the first time in her life, and the anticipation was killing her, even though she knew she was fighting literal Chaos.

Ahead, she saw a small melee unfolding in front of her where the invaders had managed to get a foothold on the battlements. Momentarily, she wondered if the defenders would fire on her if she got involved because she was such an oddity. Then she remembered what Tigurius had told her, and shoved the thought to the far recesses of her mind as she cocked her reassuringly heavy weapon and took aim.

Her first target was an armoured warrior at the edges of the small engagement who was fighting against one of the Ultramarine defenders stuck in the middle of the throng. Georgia had no idea as to the weak points in the armour the superhuman warriors wore. She was also nervous that she'd actually shoot an ally with her relative inexperience. She fired anyway as the Ultramarine took a knife to the elbow, causing him to drop his weapon. Georgia hit, knocking the Chaos assailant back a step and causing a shower of sparks where the shell had ricocheted off a pauldron. She fired again, and then again until a shell found the weak point between the chest plate and helmet, the things head exploding in a spectacular shower of gore.

It was not a clean kill in the slightest, but it did its job, as the Ultramarine she was helping gave Georgia a split-second look of thanks before turning around to face the defenders which were swarming up the siege equipment onto the battlements.

From there, Georgia let all conscious thoughts slip from her mind as her mind ran on auto pilot, instincts having taken over as she did her part in the defence of the citadel. In that state, the passage of time meant nothing to the battleship. Still, unconsciously, Georgia felt herself get more comfortable with the weapon that she'd been leant as her kills became cleaner and more efficient. She did not know where her guide had gone, possibly to sure up another sector of the fortress, nor did she really mind that she'd been left. She thought that right up until the moment when she needed his assistance.

For a while, Georgia had been holding back the breach in the defences along with fifty or so Space Marines. It was a little bit touch and go, but they were holding. That was until out of the corner of her eye, Georgia saw a group of two hundred or so jump troops spearing towards her sector of the battlements on pillars of fire, possibly hoping to smash apart the defences which Georgia was a part of entirely.

Some of the troops were brutally killed in their charge; some cut to ribbons by concentrated fire, and others exploding into spectacular fireballs as fuel tanks exploded. It was not enough though as most slammed into the battlements with incredible force, knocking the battleship momentarily off her feet.

She tried to pick herself up, but one of the Chaos Space Marines slammed into her before it could happen. Ignoring the wider battle around them, the Chaos raptor dragged Georgia kicking and screaming the thirty metres or so to the other end of the battlement.

As she was being unceremoniously manhandled, Georgia sensed something different about the Chaos invader who was about to throw her off the battlements. She knew that she was too heavy for a normal human, even a superhuman to handle. Except, in her current foe, she felt the sinister touch of the immaterium, the same which Master Darkeye had about him, and in fact Atlanta before she revealed her true colours.

Perhaps it was a poor soul which the demon had invaded, or maybe one of the 'Changer of Way's' lackeys who was taking revenge for it's master's temporary banishment. Either way, the last thing Georgia saw before she fell down a solid fifteen floors was the disgusting, slightly rusty helmet which the lesser demon wore.

Seconds later, she crashed onto the ground in a shower of dust and plascreet, her vision turning to black as consciousness fled her.

* * *

Monarch had been walking the barren wastelands of Baal for a number of days now, walking in a dead straight line towards her destination, stepping over carcasses and burnt out vehicles which stood in her way. There was little to no life to be seen, only the rusty red dunes and the vicious wind kept the battleship company for her journey.

She had faced a couple of the alien invaders. Small, disgusting creatures which were syphoning off biomass from a few dead humans. Too busy clawing and biting at the armour the dead humans wore, they did not hear Monarch approach. It was a swift encounter, only lasting for a few moments before their bloodied corpses fell to the sand, multiple clean stab wounds showing how they'd died.

Monarch had decided that she liked the Halberd which had been gifted to her. It was a beautiful thing of deadly destruction, and suited her much more than her officer's sabre ever would. She had been wondering actually if she would be allowed to keep it, or if she would have to return it to its probably rightful owner. Of course, she didn't want to, it was a good travelling companion to have and Monarch was growing very fond of it.

The battleship sighed, she hoped that maybe there would be no one who would want to take up the weapon of their master, and maybe if she showed she was worthy, they would entrust the sacred relic to a random woman. Maybe they would see Monarch as a saint, a divine being meant to save them. It was a very long shot, but it was a nice idea to keep her spirits high.

Looking around, the battleship made sure that the Tyranid beasts were properly dead, before she started to pry open the boxes scattered around her. From the looks of it, she had stumbled upon a supply convoy which had been brutally ambushed.

While Monarch was not entirely human, she still needed to eat, and right now, she was absolutely starving. So starving in fact that she was willing to eat rotten rations if it filled her up. Beyond that, she hoped that there would be clothing supplies hiding within the crates which she could put over, or replace her now ruined officers' uniform.

Finding what she wanted, Monarch threw on her new fatigues, caring not if anyone saw her strip bare naked in the deserted wastelands, just happy that she had some more suitable clothing for the weather. Her digestive tract was pleased too, because the rations were still good to eat, actually even tasting alright.

Happy with her findings, Monarch continued trekking until she got to a large rocky outcrop overlooking a vast valley some 500 metres below her. She could hear the sounds of war in the distance, angry and full of violence. From within the rolling dust storms which seemed to blanket the entire planet, the battleship saw the shadowy shapes of the monsters moving within the clouds. They were seemingly everywhere she looked within the valley. Millions upon millions of vile creatures trying to wrest control of the planet from its human defenders. It was awful, so with the smell of fresh blood in her nostrils, Monarch slowly started to pick her way down the rocky slope so that she could add her own voice to the overwhelming cacophony of war.

* * *

Brother Oras dove into the cover of a toppled statue around the edges of a large mustering area within the south wing of the Arx Angelicum. The outer defences of the mighty fortress had been breached within the span of three mighty Tyranid assault waves, with the main fortress walls being smashed asunder not long after. Since then, the remaining Space Marine defenders had been in a fighting retreat within the vast fortress, using guerrilla tactics to harry the Tyranids at every possible turn. Still, every single one of the Space Marine defenders knew that their time was getting shorter and shorter, as they retreated ever closer to the Dome of Angels. The last remaining bastion within the fortress. If that fell, then all hope was lost.

And none knew that more than Commander Dante who lead the overall defence of the planet. How he was holding himself together was anyone's guess. If rumour was to believed, he had shipped off most of the Blood Angels genestock before the siege began to ensure that the Blood Angels chapter still lived on. It was an unprecedented move, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Reaching down to his waist, Brother Oras unclipped a demolition charge from his belt before locking it to the walls surrounding the mustering ground. Keying the detonation code into the device, he turned around to nod at his squad sergeant who was helping to provide suppressive fire from the ruined stonework around him. Getting a response back through his helmets tactical display, Oras knew that it was almost time to evacuate the area and bury the Tyranids swarming through the breaches in the walls in front of him under rocks and stone.

It was shameful that they were destroying the mighty fortress, which held untold memories of past glories in the Emperor's name in a possibly vain attempt to halt the Tyranid tide. But again, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Picking up his Bolter, Oras braced it against his pauldrons as he started to fire into the mass of enemies before him, not aiming for anything in particular, only interested in slowing down the attacking force so the more powerful weapons within the main defensive line some fifteen metres behind him didn't get overwhelmed.

Not having his eyes fully focused on the targeting optics within his helmet allowed the Space Marine to see a shift within the alien mass. Suddenly, some of the Tyranids swarming through the main breach leading into the mustering grounds did a 180 at the command of the Hive Mind to face a new foe.

Brother Oras was momentarily confused. There were no know survivors remaining within the irradiated deserts of the planet, most of the remaining defenders thankfully managing to retreat along with the shrinking defensive perimeter. So what new threat had warranted the Hive Minds vast cunning?

Moments later, he saw it. A woman, a beautiful woman… no an angel with fiery red hair cutting a swath through the swarms of Tyranids. A golden halo surrounded her as she cut a bloody path through the alien beasts, each swing from her Halberd taking a toll on all who attacked her.

Brother Oras turned to his squad sergeant and pointed. The woman was wielding the blade of their dead Chapter Master, Firstblood Kaan of the Carmine Blades.

"Provide covering fire for her" sergeant Niemiel said over the squad vox as he shifted his fire to the area surrounding the beleaguered woman.

Shifting his own aim, Brother Oras noticed that other squads had the same idea as they poured concentrated bolter, flamer and plasma fire into the immediate area surrounding the woman who was slowly advancing on their position. It seemed that the planned defensive strategy would have to wait due to the unique turn of events.

* * *

Monarch hacked and slashed her way through the Tyranid mobs surrounding her as she inched her way towards the human's defensive lines. She was extremely thankful that she was a warship, that she could shrug off the hits which would turn an ordinary human to a bloodied mess. She felt and saw razor sharp claws and talons bounce off skin which was as hard, and strong as battleship grade armour. Taking one final step over the corpses of freshly slain enemies, Monarch reached the top of the rubble mound which marked one of the breaches within the fortress's defensive walls, a kilometre-long trail of corpses behind her stretching to the rocky outcrop she had gazed out from a couple of hours prior.

The defenders could definitely see her now, as they were pouring fire into the area around Monarch to easy her passing to the main defensive line. The battleship was pleased, as she had been worried that they'd see her as another foe that needed to be slain. Maybe they were seeing her as the angel the battleship wanted to be seen as.

Even with most of the defenders helping her out, it still took a further fifteen minutes to free herself from the Tyranid ranks and pass into the no man's land between the two forces. There she paused, taking a look at the Space Marines, a variety of different colour schemes on display denoting Chapter loyalties, before she turned back around to face the Tyranids, putting herself out in the open as a prime target for their bioplasma ranged weaponry, hoping that they would focus on her rather than the more fragile superhumans behind her.

There was another reason why she was putting herself out on display for all to see, and it was because she was being slowly followed by a gargantuan creature about three to four times her height. It had been following her since she made contact with the Tyranids a couple of hours ago and Monarch was hoping that she could slay it within the confines of the mustering grounds, hoping that the Space Marines would help her, being vastly more experienced than her at dealing with the creatures that the Tyranid invaders deployed.

Monarch had thought about utilising her rigging, having tested it out to make sure that it worked a day or so ago. Her caution had put that thought to bed, but it was now resurfacing at the realisation that she would have to face down the massive behemoth following her. Did she dare use her main armament? Would they even be useful since they were tens of thousands of years out of date? Those thoughts and more were going through her head as her temporary nemesis made its appearance.

The Tyranid carnifex made its appearance within the mustering grounds by shouldering aside the crumbling walls around the breach as it squarely planted its muscled hind legs and brought its stranglethorn cannon to bear.

Monarch looked around, noticing that the Space Marines stationed in front of the main defensive line were falling back. It looked as if they were preparing to retreat deeper into the structure, regardless of the presence of the monster before them.

She wanted to follow them. It was what the angel had tasked her with, and Monarch wanted to see the task through so that she could play her part in the defence of the citadel.

For a moment, she locked eyes with one of the Space Marine leaders. It was all she needed, an oath between warriors stating that they would hold the exit for a couple more minutes to give Monarch the option to escape. But she didn't want to escape, she wanted to show that she was a divine angel sent down by a wrathful god to punish the invaders for having the audacity to dare attack a human world.

With a blinding flash of golden light which momentarily stunned all those around her, she summoned her rigging, loading armour piercing rounds into their chambers as she aimed nine 381mm guns towards the Tyranid carnifex.

At such short range, it was impossible to miss and with a sound that momentarily drowned out all others, fired. All nine hit, turning the heavily armed and armoured carnifex into swiss cheese; 6 gaping holes in its centre mass, its head completely missing.

Not sparing another look, Monarch turned and ran towards the extraction point. Time seemed to slow down as she dashed headlong towards the small passageway being held by a squad of Space Marines. She felt their minds willing her onward, as much as hers was doing the same. Scrambling over the hastily erected defensive formations, she fired a few more shots from her secondary weapons before dismissing her rigging so she could fit into the small passageway which marked her exit.

A moment later, and she was through. Turning, she saw the Tyranid swarm rushing headlong towards her. Then, the explosive charges at the edge of the mustering ground detonated, causing the ceiling to fall down and the surrounding walls to collapse in on themselves, effectively burying the invaders under so much rubble.

It had brought them some time, and sealed a potential future breach, though knowing the Tyranids cunning, it probably wouldn't stay that way.

Still, Monarch had made it, her first task complete.


	4. Chapter 4

Monarch found herself getting swiftly escorted through the Arx Angelicum by a squad of marines after jumping through the small gap which marked her extraction point. They had very quickly impressed upon her the importance of following them, and seeing the looks of suspicion which were being thrown away, Monarch reluctantly accepted.

It was as if Monarch was being followed by a group of watchful crows as all eyes turned upon her when she and her escorts passed through the populated areas of the inner fortress.

None of her onlookers said anything though, which was both reassuring and worrying in equal measures. Monarch was happy that maybe they were just accepting her very unusual presence for what it was, and unhappy because they may have been scheming something behind the impassionate helmets that they wore. But most importantly, none of the Space Marine onlookers mentioned anything about the master-crafted weapon which she was carrying for all to see.

Eventually, the air got thicker and staler, as Monarch was led down to a dungeon of some description. As far as prisons went, it was the usual affair; unfriendly and uncomfortable, some form of vegetation growing in the damp recesses of the cells.

As one, her escort stopped, the lead marine unlocking one of the larger cell doors. Swinging the door open on well-oiled hinges, he gestured for Monarch to go inside, the subtle sounds of weapons cocking behind the battleship reminding her that Monarch didn't get much choice in the matter.

So with a big sigh, Monarch slouched into the cell and sat down on the large, but uncomfortable bed which dominated the cell. Turning around, she watched the same marine relock the door, and key a code into a device which projected a shield onto the bars of the cell door. It was to presumably stop someone manhandling the door open by both strengthening the steel, and giving the assailant an almighty electric shock. For the battleship, it was all assumptions. She had no interest in escaping, and actually understood why the Space Marines had brought her down to the dungeon. It was nice and quiet, and it gave her time for her tired muscles to have a rest as she laid her head down on the uncomfortable bed and closed her eyes.

* * *

After a while of silent contemplation where she rolled questions around in her mind, Monarch opened her azure eyes to sit up on the bed, surprised to see the angel standing as still as a statue on the other side of the cell bars.

He seemed to notice Monarch too as he opened golden eyes to give her a warm smile.

"I must congratulate you on your completed task. You have done yourself proud and started to prove yourself worthy of being chosen to come here." He quietly said, having no need to raise his voice in the quiet chamber.

"I had a choice of coming here, or was I nominated?" Monarch cocked her head, confused again by the angels' words.

"Yes" he continued. "There were others like you that could have been chosen for this task, though some already had their destinies laid out for them, and others later deemed unsuitable for this role."

"So it was by a roll of the dice that I was sent here?" Monarch retorted, a little angry at the riddles she was being presented with.

"In some ways, yes. Though as I said, you are starting to prove yourself more than up to the task and I hope it continues that way."

"Well, having to fight for your life is a very good motivator." Monarch smiled to herself.

"For some yes, for others it is not. Though you'll find none of the latter present in this place. But, I realise that you have some questions about this place, and probably me, so I would be willing to answer a few for you."

Frowning for a couple of moments in thought, Monarch came up with her first question. "What's your name?"

"Now, I'm known as the Sanguinor, though in the past, I was known by a different name."

"And are you like the other Space Marines in this place, or are you something different?"

"Again I used to be, but now I am nothing more than a spirit if you will, visiting people who require special attention like yourself."

The questions continued, though neither party heard the sounds of heavily armoured boots padding down the steep stone-cut steps to the dungeon. The first that either the Sanguinor or Monarch knew of their new guest, was through an audible gasp of shock.

The sound caused both to turn, to see a uniquely armoured Space Marine staring at the Sanguinor in shock.

The stranger was clad in a beautiful, ornate suit of mastercrafted armour. Motifs were woven into the armour, with two spread eagles painted on the chest plate, one above the other. Muscles had also been carved into the armour to give the Space Marine a surprisingly human look even with the thick suit of armour on. He was unhelmeted, and had a tired and haggard expression on his aquiline face. He still looked very old, with a fair number of skin flaps on his face along with a loss of muscle definition. Regardless, he still had presence, and had the aura of a predator at rest. Except at the moment, his bodily expression was that of surprise and shock.

"It seems that we have been found out" the Sanguinor looked at Monarch with a ghost of a smile on his face. "The next task that I ask of you is to simply play your part in the defense of this citadel. I will return when the time is ripe."

And with that, the angel disappeared from sight, leaving a still confused Monarch, and a shocked Space Marine. Turning, Monarch was starting to get worried about the man. He had been standing stock still for a few minutes now. She wondered what was completely incomprehensible for him. Was it her? Or was it the Sanguinor who she'd just been speaking to?

Either way, the Space Marine shook himself out of his trance as he marched down the small corridor towards Monarch's cell. Unsure, the battleship decided that it would be wise to not make the first move.

"It is remarkable when the Sanguinor visits someone on this planet. Even more so when that person is not a Space Marine. He only visits very rarely, so you must be someone of extreme importance if he has come to give you guidance."

Monarch did not know what to say in response. "He's already visited me once before" she perhaps foolishly blurted out.

"Then you must be truly blessed if he is taking such an interest in you" the still unnamed man replied as he sank down to the floor to have a sit-down. Even in such a position, he looked like a predator ready to strike at any moment.

"I am old, very old perhaps" the Space Marine sighed. "And the Sanguinor has visited me just over ten times in my life."

"What are his messages usually about?" Monarch cocked her head.

"Sometimes they are not messages" the man grimaced. "But acts to help you achieve your higher purpose."

"Does he, or whatever he is visit all the people here?" Monarch gestured to the fortress around her.

"No" the Space Marine shook his head. "I can count on both hands how many other people the Sanguinor has visited within my Chapter during the years I have served. That is why I say that you are blessed, more than you'll maybe comprehend."

"Tell me, what is your name?"

Monarch sighed. She hadn't thought about an answer to that question even though she should have known that it would eventually come up. She didn't have time to come up with a convenient lie either, although she was never particularly good at the art. Which meant that she'd just have to be truthful and hope that the Space Marine would take it at face value.

So after a few more moments of thinking, the battleship started telling her strange tale. "I'm called Monarch" she started, unconsciously gauging the man's reactions. "I'm a ship, from probably years and years in the past. I was never built though, so I never had a body to inhabit, even though I had completed the drawing board stage if that makes any sense."

Remarkably, based on the man's expression, and the slow nodding of his head, he was taking what Monarch was saying at face value. Emboldened, the battleship continued her story.

"So being a soul without a body, I ended up in this strange place between the living and the dead. The living being the place where the ships that were put into steel resided, and the dead being the plans and drawings that were never truly completed."

"Just to clarify" the man suddenly interrupted. "You are the soul of a warship that was meant to be, but in the end was never interned in your physical body?"

"Pretty much, yeah" Monarch ineloquently replied. "So I was walking through that place between the living and the dead when a portal opened up and the Sanguinor appeared beside it. I was strangely drawn to it, and before long I'd stepped into the portal and arrived on this planet."

"An interesting tale indeed" the haggard man stroked his chin. "And one which I, nor anyone else save the Emperor should interfere in. If you are being regularly visited and guided by the Sanguinor, you are as I said, destined for a higher purpose than most mortals can understand. Therefore, you'll get no questions from me, unless it directly impacts the continuing defense of this fortress."

"Who are you, if I may ask?" Monarch quietly said.

"I am Commander Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels, the chapter which calls this planet home."

Monarch's eyes lit up at his proclamation as she reached back to the far wall of the cell where she'd placed the halberd given to her. Seeing all the Space Marines silently judging her as she made her way to her cell gave the battleship a change of mind. Unconsciously, Monarch was starting to think that she was stealing something which rightfully belonged to them, and fortunately, or unfortunately, Monarch's sense of right and wrong meant that she now really wanted the blade returned to whoever was the correct successor to that deceased Chapter Master.

Glancing back around to Dante, Monarch realised that just like the Sanguinor, he looked like a shining beacon of reason and humanity, and now that the battleship had a name to a face, she felt more at ease.

"I was give… no found this while traveling across this world" Monarch held out the halberd so Dante could properly see it. "And now that I'm here, I think that I should give it to its proper owners." The battleship leaned forward as if handing Dante the blade through the bars of the cell doors.

In response, the Space Marine held up his hands and shuffled slightly away. "It is not mine to take away as it does not belong to my Chapter anymore" he lightly smiled. "If you want to find a proper answer to your question, I suggest you take it to the acting leader of the Carmine Blades, whose Chapter that blade belongs to."

"I see" Monarch quietly pouted as she placed the weapon back in its original spot.

At the same time, Dante stood up and keyed a code into the shielding device. "This fortress is a confusing labyrinth of corridors and tunnels, but I have faith that you'll find the correct place." He continued speaking as he unlocked the cell door with a master key. "Feel free to seek them out. The Arx Angelicum is relatively safe at this time now that we've successfully held back the latest Tyranid assault wave. It will take them some time to amass enough numbers for another attack."

Now free again, Monarch gave Dante a quiet farewell as she started to pick her way through the winding and confusing passages of the fortress-monastery. Dante was right, it was definitely hard to keep track of one's location, but thankfully her gut instincts were correct as she eventually alighted at a side entrance to a large loading bay. Around her, she noticed Space Marines clad in the red and white of the Carmine Blades resting, eating and sparring to pass the time. Apart from that, human serfs and strange human automaton things tended to armour and larger weapons systems as apothecaries did their rounds among the resting Marines to check for ailments and injuries.

Further away, a strategy meeting was taking place in one of the corners where a number of boxes had been arranged into a makeshift table. On top of it looked to be a floorplan of the fortress, or at least a section of it. Around it stood around ten Space Marines, probably the remains of the chapters command structure. They looked to be in deep conversation about how to plan the continuing defense of the Arx Angelicum and Monarch didn't want to disturb them.

Still, she swallowed her nerves and entered into the loading bay proper as she slowly walked towards the strategy meeting. Over time, eyes turned towards her as the resting marines followed her movements across the space.

The members of the strategy meeting took notice too as one subtly coughed and pointed towards Monarch's approaching form. Now that most eyes were on her again, the battleships nerves started going on the fritz as she alighted a comfortable distance from the chapter leaders.

"Um, Commander Dante told me that you were the people to talk to about this" Monarch awkwardly started as she took the halberd up in her outstretched hand. "I found this out in the desert badlands where it was impaled in a Tyranid leader."

Monarch noticed the expressions that the unhelmeted Space Marines wore changed the moment she had finished her short explanation from irritation to something approaching relief.

"I remember now" the Marine closest to Monarch replied after a few seconds before he proceeded to wrap up the strategy meeting to deal with the more immediate issue in front of him. Annoyingly though, the others present for the meeting stayed in their places, all shooting daggers in Monarch's direction.

Unsure of what to do now, Monarch decided to show the respect the marines arguably deserved by taking a knee, still keeping the halberd outstretched in her hands as she looked down at the hard floor beneath her.

As if on cue, most sounds within the loading bay stopped as Space Marines and human serfs alike looked on at the important exchange happening in the corner of the bay. It was unnervingly quiet, and Monarch was battling with a nervous twitch in her right leg which she was desperately trying to control. To make matters worse, from the corners of her vision, she noticed the Marines of the Carmine Blades walk up towards her to witness the sight, and to presumably pass their own personal judgments on her.

As Monarch waited, she could feel the presence and stares of those around her weighing down on her body as if there was an actual physical force was pushing her down, examining her from every angle as they formed a circle around her.

Clearly, this exchange would be an extremely important moment for the Carmine Blades if they survived the siege of Baal.

Finally, after what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, the Space Marine closest to her - presumably a captain judging by the heraldry he wore - decided to speak.

"Our Chapter Master, Firstblood Kaan died an honourable death, a death that any man should aspire to. He challenged the Hive Tyrant to single combat during one of the first Tyranid invasion waves, when the orbital battle was still fiercely raging overhead. Kaan died, but took the Tyranid monstrosity with him, breaking the back of the attacking forces as without a leader, they turned on each other. Since then, the Carmine Blades have lost many good men in the following waves, leaders better suited than myself to take up the mantle as Chapter Master."

"That blade which you hold in your hands is older than this Chapter itself" the man continued. "It was given to us as a parting gift by our parent chapter - the Blood Angels - when our own was first founded some 3 millennia ago. Since then, it has been the weapon of office for our Chapter Masters, passed down through each generation. It is called Windshear and it is the most treasured weapon in our reliquary."

"Some of my men have seen you in action at the front lines" The Space Marine was now directly addressing Monarch as he casually pointed towards those marines gathered who had given him such reports. They told me of how you had reaped a bloody tally in the defense of the mustering ground breach. Not only that, but you defeated a carnifex, a tale worthy of legend itself."

Monarch had no idea where the exchange was going, but she was secretly pleased that her acts were having the effects that she wanted.

"Not only that, but even now, kneeling in front of me, I can feel a holy energy radiating from you. The Emperor has clearly touched you and is helping to guide your hand. You have a golden aura like an angel."

Taking a breath, the Space Marine Captain shouted out his proclamation for all within the loading bay to hear. "As such, I now proclaim that you, Monarch will be the new keeper of Windshear. May it give you the strength to continue your fight against the foes of the Emperor."


	5. Chapter 5

**Just introducing a new character in this chapter.**

* * *

Groggily, Georgia opened her eyes as feeling returned to her body. She had no idea how far she'd fallen, or for how long she'd been out cold. Although, judging by how long it was taking for her body to restart, it had been for a very long time. Slowly, the incessant ringing in her ears receded into nothingness, allowing the battleship to hear the sounds of footsteps, and that of her feet dragging against the stone floors of the fortress.

Feeling the cold, iron tight grip of armoured hands on her arms, Georgia quickly surmised that she was being dragged somewhere. She had half a mind to struggle, or to crane her neck around to get a better idea about what was going on. But, feeling her muscles ache and groan in protest when she so much as tried to shrug her shoulders, Georgia decided it would be best not to push it.

Her next thought was whether she'd broken something in her insane fall which would have crushed a normal human into a pulp. Thankfully, nothing felt broken as such, although the battleship had a pretty good idea that she'd be full of ugly bruises and sprains.

Just when Georgia thought clarity was returning, a searing headache reappeared in her mind. Biting down on her tongue to stop herself from groaning and grunting in pain, the battleship felt her consciousness slip away as she felt her arms and body being manhandled into a metal stock. Feeling her centre of mass shift uncomfortably as her arms, head and legs were restrained, Georgia felt her muscles sag as she entered the realm of unconsciousness again.

* * *

Georgia opened her eyes, seeing the writhing energies of the warp flowing past her. Around her, she could see the half-formed horrors clawing at the protective bubble around the battleship, trying to gain access to Georgia's mind so that they could devour her.

The black-haired girl ignored it though, and focused on what stood before her. Walking a few paces closer, Georgia's form appeared in the mirror. It was still her, only that her clothing had changed. No longer was she wearing the simple uniform which had been given to her by Tigurius's serf. Instead, she was wearing an exquisite set of power armour in the livery of the Ultramarines.

Clasped in one hand was a staff, its head fashioned into that of an Imperial Eagle, the haft adorned with seals and litanies. Her other hand was raised, holding open a thick and ancient book filled with runes and words of power.

Looking up, Georgia locked eyes with the reflection, the heterochromatic eyes of herself glowing with arcane energy as a bolt of golden energy speared through the murky warp.

* * *

The bitter cold and the howling wind awoke Georgia sometime later, this time fully awake and alert. The first thing that the battleship noticed and felt was the stone-cold metal of the stock which had locked her arms and head together to the point where she could hardly move an inch. Still, judging from what she could see directly in front of her, the black-haired girl surmised that she was on some sort of mountain peak, with a bleak, snow-covered rockface leading to the summit.

Shivering against the bitterly cold wind, Georgia then turned to regard the people around her. To her surprise, the battleship noticed that she was being guarded and watched not by Space Marines, but by normal, if slightly augmented human soldiers. They looked to be made of stern stuff; muscular in build with a cuirass, mean looking shotgun and the heraldry of the Ultramarines stamped onto their helmets, breastplate and pauldrons. And unlike her, they didn't seem at all fazed by the unkind weather so high up in the mountains.

Shivering once again, Georgia racked her mind, trying to figure out the sudden and unwelcome turn of events that had befallen her. To the battleship, her current predicament made no sense because before she'd fallen down ten or fifteen floors, she'd been helping defend the battlements against the attacking Chaos horde. She'd been doing a good job of it too, helping and saving other Space Marines who had been duking it out in fierce melee combat. The others around her who'd been covering the breach in the lines along with her hadn't shown her any hostile intent either. Honestly, Georgia was stumped as to why she was now being treated like a prisoner. Had Tigurius lied to her? It seemed unlikely; he didn't seem like the lying type to the battleship. It was strange.

Then, as if on cue, her mind flared up again, almost causing Georgia to scream out in pain.

Out of the pain within her mind, a vista started to form.

It was of a grand temple set within a fortress, its walls full of banners and fresco's depicting great deeds. In the centre, atop a throne sat a figure encased within a field. Georgia saw herself there among a large group of people.

Then, without warning, something crashed through the ceiling, disgorging shadowy figures full of murderous intent.

"What the hell is going on" the battleship whimpered as the pain once more died down. Taking slow deep breaths, Georgia eventually opened her eyes again to see a dozen or so shotguns pointed directly at her face and head. The humans guarding her having subtly changed her postured as they feathered triggers, more than prepared to vaporise her head.

Were they psychic too? Georgia thought. Or could they sense a change in the air? Or was it a gut feeling which made them change?

"Calm down" Georgia whispered to herself, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating from pain and fright as her head was set on fire again.

Detaching her mind from her body, Georgia entered the Warp as she searched for the souls around her. In the gloom of the warp, they shone bright like beacons. Latching onto one, Georgia slowly teased and cracked open the mind of one of the guards watching over her.

"I'm no threat to you" the battleship soothingly said as she lowered the weapon the man had pointed at her physical body with an ethereal hand.

"Thank you" Georgia smiled as the guard completely lowered his weapon, his limbs going limp and his eyes going vacant as the black-haired girl completely took over his body and soul.

* * *

It was all going so well and smoothly that when Georgia heard the report of a Bolter being fired. She jumped out of her skin and unconsciously severed the connection which she'd been nurturing with the guard closest to her.

As Georgia severed the connection, the helot immediately snapped back to attention, eyes wide awake as he once more raised his autogun to the battleship's face, trigger finger itching.

"I suggest that if you wish to live longer than the next minute, you stop whatever foul trickery you're trying to accomplish witch." The deep, commanding voice of a Space Marine sounded out from just outside Georgia's field of vision.

Witch? What was he on about? The battleship questioned. She was no witch. A witch suggested that she'd be able to cast spells and manipulate people's minds, and she was very certain that she was completely incapable of doing such things.

Unfortunately, she knew that it was a lie.

Moments later, her mind flared up again.

Georgia felt a power building within her mind, all-consuming and red hot. She held it in for as long as possible. She tried to contain it, but realised that it was futile in the end. Something was growing within her mind and soul, a powerful yet terrible gift.

Forcing her mind to act as one, Georgia released the ball of power in her mind, the metal bindings which she was a prisoner within shattering like glass into a million pieces.

Fully in control, Georgia stood up, Ethereal energy setting her heterochromatic eyes ablaze as she turned to one of the helots and lashed out with a hand, a lance of psychic energy pulsing across the icy mountain top to invade the man's mind. Such was the power of her attack, that the excess warp energy arced to the other helots guarding her. They were all mentally strong individuals, aware of the predations of the warp, just not strong enough to defend against Georgia's mental onslaught.

A second later, and the human guards we hers. Turning, Georgia was just about to command them to overwhelm the Ultramarine guard when she felt the presence of another attuned to the warp approaching. All too late, the battleship realised it was Chief Librarian Tigurius.

Stepping out of the tower leading up the mountain, Tigurius immediately planted his staff onto the snow-covered ground, knocking Georgia back a few metres and severing the connect she had with her thralls. Before the battleship could even so much as think about getting back up, the Librarian locked her in place using his own psychic powers.

Closing the distance between them with unnatural speed, Tigurius lifted Georgia up so that they were at eye level as he invaded her mind.

Georgia didn't struggle or try to put up any mental defences against the assault. Still, Tigurius was not kind. He rifled through her mind without a care or concern for Georgia's own wellbeing. He examined her soul for any and all traces of Chaos corruption or demonic possession.

With surprise, and horror, Tigurius found none, realising that the truth was much more complicated than that.

Moments later, he dropped Georgia to the ground as he took a couple of steps back, a wary expression on his face as the guard retinue closed in around her.

Georgia looked up. The pain having fully left her mind. She knew what she'd done and it had shocked her. She looked over to the metal stock, only the foundations remaining, the rest having been vaporised and blown to the wind.

Just what was the power that she'd used which could bend people to her will and cause such destruction?

"I should honestly have expected this" Tigurius started as he cast a ward on himself and his allied to dissuade Georgia from trying anything. "One of the most common ways that humans get psychic powers is through extreme physical and mental trauma. You now harbour a powerful yet terrible gift Georgia" Tigurius continued as he looked at her directly in the eye.

"I am of half a mind to slay you here and now, so that you do not become a danger to yourself or others through demonic possession. Though the Emperor compels me not to. I should not interfere with the plans that he has laid out for you by handing you over to the Black Ships either or locking you up in a dungeon."

"What will you do with me?" Georgia quietly asked as she picked herself up, keeping her hands where they could easily be seen.

"Nothing, unfortunately" Tigurius sighed. "My Tarot Cards state that you will be needed for a number of important events which will happen in the near future, though because of the constant disturbances within the warp, I am unable to divine what exactly they are."

"Alright then" Georgia waved her arms in exasperation before kneeling back down on the snowy ground. "I am at your command."

"Come" Tigurius commanded. "We have an important meeting to attend to. New and important guests have just arrived who will be important in what is to come."

Nodding, Georgia followed as the Chief Librarian led her away from Gallan's Rock. Behind him, he could feel the power radiating from Georgia like a blazing sun, white-hot and full of power. He had to find something, anything that he could give to the Alpha level psyker to help her control the power that she now wielded.

* * *

With an almighty thump, the strike cruiser Sword of Honour exited the warp and transitioned back into real space at the edge of Macragge's orbital envelope. Confused, Azuma worriedly looked around her small metal chamber as she closed the book on swordsmanship that Marshall Amalrich had lent her for their journey to the throneworld of the Ultramarines.

Standing up, the large cruiser heard a swift knock on the door before it opened, Yvraine standing expectantly at the opening. "Come child" she sternly said. "Our time on this ship is up. Gather your things for we're about to make planetfall."

Nodding, Azuma pocketed the book and gathered up the rest of her possessions before following the Eldar prophet out of the cramped chamber that she'd been consigned to since they'd docked with the Ultramarine vessel orbiting above the planet of Laphis. From what she'd been told, Azuma had been found wandering the Atheron mountains by the survivors of Cadia. Apparently, it had taken a lot to convince Inquisitor Greyfax that Azuma be allowed to join the remnants of the Celestinian Crusade as they sought council with Marneus Calgar.

Following the ships armsmen down the winding corridors of the cruiser, Azuma and Yvraine slowly linked up with the other members which made up the people who had boarded the cruiser above Laphis. First, there was Marshal Marius Amalrich of the Black Templars. Azuma quite liked him. He was full of wisdom and interesting anecdotes which helped to make the boring journey through the warp more bearable. Next came Inquisitor Greyfax whom the large cruiser honestly despised. Azuma thought that she was a stupid and narrow-minded individual filled to the brim with superstition and arrogance. As for Cawl, the person, thing just made Azuma want to gag in disgust. How anyone could turn themselves into that war utterly beyond comprehension to the cruiser.

Either way, with Saint Celestine, they made a very interesting party as they were led into the main hangar of the strike cruiser where a squadron of Stormraven gunships were waiting for them. Peering past the bulky vehicles, Azuma stared out into the darkness of space.

The large cruiser didn't have a clue where she was, nor what she was meant to be doing. Even still, she had a purpose. She was going to an important meeting, and for the moment while she got her bearings, that was enough.

Refocusing her golden eyes as she slowly walked towards one of the waiting gunships, she saw the flashes of light as warships exchanged fire over the vast distances of space. Two titanic fleets clashing in space above the planet. Beneath her, Azuma felt the ship shudder as it played its part in the naval engagement. Around her, she could see crew members hurrying around the hangar bay as they worked overtime to get fighter wings in the air, even as the ship weathered immense fire, the void shields flashing a rainbow of colour as it absorbed ordinance that would probably cripple the strike cruiser.

With a rumble, the Stormraven ignited its engines as it lifted off from the hangar deck and shot out of its parent vessel to make the mad descent down to the surface of Macragge. Around the plummeting squadron of gunships, the Chaos armada and the ships of the Ultramar Defence fleet clashed above Macragge, the factions lumbering battleships and blade fast escorts filling the void with lance beams and torpedoes. According to the pilot, the Chaos attack was focusing primarily upon the Fortress of Hera, which covered most of the capital city, Magna Macragge Civitas.

Looking out of the external cameras, Azuma saw the planet slowly turn beneath her, a vast orb of blue, white, green and grey, much like the Earth. Closer, chaos lit up the blackness of space. Lance beams stabbed through the darkness, broken wrecks of warships tumbling through space, chunks of metal and leaking plasma spreading slowly away from blazing carcasses. Entire wings of attack aircraft hurled through blizzards of point defence fire to execute daring strafing runs upon capital ships.

It was maddening for Azuma, but exhilarating all the same. Scanning over the horrific Chaos warships, the cruiser noticed the sigils of the Black Legion, the Iron Warriors and the Night Lords as they scythed through the darkness above the planet, launching glittering swarms of drop pods and aircraft as they tried to wrestle control of the system away from the recently returned and reinforced Imperial fleet.

Diving through the madness of the orbital battle, ramjets on full thrust, the Ultramarine gunships eventually hit Macragge's upper atmosphere. Travelling at immense speeds, the flames of re-entry washed across the vessels as hulls groaned and shuddered under the immense gravitational forces they were being subjected to.

Eventually, the flamed died away, being replaced by a dizzying vista of towering mountains that grew alarmingly close as the Stormravens speared downwards. In the midst of the white mountain peaks sprawled the immense fortified cityscape of Macragge's capital city, lit from end to end by muzzle flares and missile silos as they hurtled their wrath up into the heavens. Around the gunships, Heldrakes and traitor fighter craft swarmed above the fortress of Hera, weaving through towering statues and buildings.

Disregarding all of that, the gunships continued their mad dash towards safety, surrounded by streams of cannon fire and tumbling comets of metal and flames. They plunged headlong through curtains of anti-aircraft fire, only the superhuman reflexes of the Ultramarine pilots preventing the aircraft from being torn apart.

Clinging onto the restraining straps of her seat for dear life, Azuma felt her hands ache from the white-knuckle grip she had on the restraining bar. She was almost about to throw up when mercifully, the cruiser felt the gunship decelerate as it arced gracefully into an armoured hangar set into a sheer mountainside.

Spending a moment to shake her head and regain her bearing and balance, Azuma exited the battered aircraft and into the hangar bay proper. The large cruiser found herself surrounded by urgent bustle on all sides. Around the shimmering shields of the hangar entrance, normal humans manned anti-aircraft guns. Those bulky human-robot things which disgusted Azuma lumbered back and forth, hauling ammunition and other parts. Further away, gunships were being rearmed and refuelled. Hundreds of men and woman were going about their business within the hangar, grim-faced and determined to see their planet defended.

Alighting next to the other members of her party in a loose formation, Azuma noticed and pointed to a small precession approaching the group. The Ultramarine at the front introduced himself as a Veteran Sergeant and requested that the group follow him without actually waiting for an answer.

So, having no other choice, the strange and unique group of humans and Eldar followed the sergeant through the fortress. They traversed grand chambers, railed walkways and across courtyards. Hastened on by their guide, the group eventually passed into a broad circular chamber filled with maps and consoles. In the centre, a holomap was projected into the air, runes and signifiers swarming across it in an almost incomprehensible stream of data.

Looking up at the display, faces set in frowns of deep concentration, were Marneus Calgar, First Captain Agemmman and Tigurius. Slowly, the chatter within the chamber died down as the occupants started to take note of the strange group of travellers facing them.

As the groups formally introduced themselves to each other, Azuma noticed a woman standing at the edges of the room, looking on at the proceedings with interested heterochromatic eyes. Even though she had no idea who the woman was, Azuma knew that they were the same; the strength and power of a vast warship interned in a human body. The large cruiser gave the black-haired woman a kind smile, one which was happily returned. Honestly, Azuma was relieved, very relieved that she wasn't the only one stuck in this strange place.

Thankfully, Azuma didn't have to introduce herself since she was a strange nobody who'd randomly appeared on a random world. Interestingly, her fellow shipgirl didn't need to do anything either.

Either way, as the parties finished introducing themselves, an expectant hush filled the air punctuated by the muffled explosions blossoming in the sky outside. Gunships raced past the armoured windows as the holomap continued to hum as more data was added to the tactic display.

Finally, after what felt like a very long silence. The Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, Marneus Calgar spoke up. "I have no notion or idea of who you are Archmagos Cawl, nor have I once made a pact with the Priests of Mars. I have the defence of this planet to look to which is more important than whatever has sent you here, so I suggest stating your intentions clearly and soon, otherwise I will ask you to leave."

"I have not come to see you, Marneus Calgar" Archmagos cawl replied in his emotionless, mechanic voice. "I have travelled across the galaxy to attend to the Lord of Ultramar, Roboute Guilliman, not you. I demand to be taken to the Primarch at once. This auto reliquary must be delivered to the Shrine of Roboute Guilliman."

The outcry that followed was immediate and intense.


	6. Chapter 6

**I found this chapter an utter turd to write even though it's so short. Tried not to bore you all with too much meaningless dialogue.**

 **Hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

In seconds, the strategium devolved into fierce argument, thunderous and surprised voices filling the space where a dignified meeting had been going on moments before.

"In the Emperor's name, that cannot be allowed!" Calgar roared as he stared directly at Cawl. "That shrine is sacred to our Chapter and I will not allow you to defile it in any way."

Calgar's tirade continued, getting more and more thunderous with every syllable. In the background, autoquills scratched away at a furious pace as serfs tried to keep up with the evolving argument happening around the central dias.

The pilgrims too turned to look at Cawl like he taken complete leave of his senses, with the Inquisitor squaring up to him and demanding an immediate explanation before she took more direct and violent action for the apparent betrayal of the Emperor.

Georgia watched all this unravel from her spot at the edge of the room, a small, amused smile spread across her face. She found it so damn funny how stuck up and suspicious each one of the Imperials was. The battleship had no idea why they wouldn't just accept Cawl's request at face value and not lose their cool, but still ask plenty of questions to get the full picture before they started shouting death threats and other stupid things.

Glancing across, Georgia locked her eyes with Azuma who looked completely lost standing in the middle of the maelstrom of shouting voices. Much like Georgia, the large cruiser was getting bored with how childish the 'experienced adults' in the room were being.

Eventually, First Captain Agemaan's voice rose above the din in a vox amplified roar.

"I demand that there is quiet here" he shouted, overpowering everyone else's voices easily. "Remember where we stand, and the offices that we all hold." The Space Marine continued. "We need to calm down and talk through this in a sensible manner!"

Thankfully, everyone heeded the First Captain's words as order was swiftly restored to the strategium. Happy, Agemaan then turned to his Chapter Master to utter a few phrases.

"I do not trust these newcomers" he quietly said. "With the orbital battle still in the balance and the Chaos forces advancing on the fortress, we should place all of these pilgrims in confinement so that we can focus on the more direct threat." The First Captain gestured to the travellers arrayed on the other side of the dias from him. "Furthermore, the auto reliquary should be placed in stasis until its full nature can be determined and the Eldar exterminated so that they don't pose any further threat to the Chapter."

"If I may" Celestine then spoke up. "I was sent here on a mission from the Emperor to…."

Her attempt at explaining her presence, and that of her unlikely companions was swiftly cut short as the saint noticed the muzzles of fifteen or so Honour Guard bolters pointed at her head, making it clear that the ball was still definitely in the Ultramarines side of the court.

As weapons were once again lowered, all eyes slowly turned towards Calgar who was looking face down at the dias, not meeting any of the looks thrown his way as he thought through the situation presented to him. A few moments later, he turned to perhaps his most trusted advisor, Chief Librarian Tigurius to ask for further counsel.

Nodding and staying silent for a few long heartbeats, Tigurius eventually decided to speak for the first time in the meeting, his voice rich and full of wisdom.

"Firstly, I must remind you my Lord of the troubling visions that I have born witness too, both before and after the coma that I found myself in. Perhaps the most important of the visions was that of a flight of iron birds which had taken flight from a distant, burning orb of churning cogs. In a series of visions, those avian creatures had soared through shadow and fire that had spilled out from a broken castle gate of a vast size. Throughout it all, they had clutched blazing swords in their talons, and their wings had shone golden with holy light as they flew towards Ultramar."

Tigurius then paused and almost imperceivably shook his head, unwilling to continue his half-finished tale. Clearly, he did not wish to discuss the dark side to the particular series of visions that he was referencing.

Everyone was on tenterhooks though, wanting to fully understand the meaning of the visions which would play a role in how the Ultramarines proceeded with the unlikely group of visitors that they'd been presented with.

Then, just before one of the Pilgrims was about to speak up, Georgia started speaking from the back of the room. Instantly, all eyes turned to regard the black haired girl who was sitting in the shadows next to a massive cogitator bank.

"But, through the ruptured castle gateway, stared an eye, an all-seeing and slit pupiled eye. And as the birds neared this planet, a giant corrupted maw full of bloodied fangs had loomed wide around them, ready to bite down with crushing force."

Disengaging eye contact with his charge, Tigurius turned to regard the others arrayed around the command dias, internally thankful that Georgia had finished the tale which had put him in his coma.

"As I'm sure many of you realise that these visions pertained to the fall of Cadia and the subsequent ferocious invasion of Ultramar by the Black Legion. They have already been proven somewhat true with timely messages sent to the Ultramar Defense Fleets to aid us at this crucial moment. Now though, I believe that the visions have taken on a new meaning pertaining to these travelers."

Taking a moment to stroke his weathered face in thought, he delivered his final verdict. "Ultimately, I feel inclined to vouch for the presence of these travelers, even that of the Eldar. I believe that these souls are the birds that I saw in my visions, and are therefore the Emperor's will made manifest."

"Please, speak" Calgar then gestured to the pilgrims as he opened the floor for them, at the same time internalising the information that his Librarian had provided him with.

With the order given, an awkward silence fell over the pilgrims as they shot each other sidelong glances, egging on the other to speak first. None wanted to start though, presumably because they didn't want to reveal any information that they didn't have to disclose, wanting to reveal as little about their own personal agendas as possible.

Eventually, Azuma took it upon herself to start their tale since hers was arguably the most simple to explain, so with an exasperated sigh, she started speaking. "So yeah…" the large cruiser said. "I'm like that other girl in the corner over there" she pointed towards Georgia still sitting in the shadows of the cogitator bank. "I don't know how I got here and why I'm here, only that according to Saint Celestine and Marshal Amalrich 'I'm going to be important in the pivotal moments that are to come' or something like that" Azuma shrugged, not really believing it herself.

Thankfully, Azuma's awkward piece was the catalyst the other travellers needed to start saying their own tales.

"Yes" Marshall Amalrich continued. "We found her in the Atheron mountains on the planet of Laphis which we'd moved to after exiting a webway gate at the edges Ultramar after our flight from Cadia."

"We were lead to a webway gate on one of the moons at the edge of the Cadian solar system by our Eldar allies." Saint Celestine continued.

"And myself and my troops correctly guided the Imperials through the winding pathways of the webway safely to the Ultramar sector" Yvraine almost arrogantly added in typical Eldar fashion.

"It was decided that the majority of the forces still with us would be placed under the command of the Ultramarines guarding Laphis shrine while myself and this group continued on to board the Strike Cruiser and make planetfall upon Macragge to meet you here" Greyfax concluded the short tale.

Calgar stayed silent throughout the story, the pieces slowly falling into place as the travelers told about the carnage wrought within the Cadian system and their flight across the galaxy, constantly hounded by Abaddon's minions. Their words also going someway to also explaining why there were Eldar among their party.

"And what say you Archmagos?" Calgar turned to Cawl since he hadn't spoken as part of the group. "Do you wish to tell of your part in this narrative?"

Irritatingly, despite the Chapter Master's constant questioning, Archmagos Cawl refused to divulge any more information about his purpose and presence upon the world of Macragge.

Getting annoyed herself, Inquisitor Greyfax spoke up. "As the highest member of the Inquisition within this place, I am placing myself personally responsible for Archmagos Cawl's summary execution if he proves to be acting against the will of the Emperor, Chapter Master Calgar."

Nodding, Calgar once again raised his hand to forestall any further comments as he decided upon his final verdict.

On the one hand, he could listen to the advice of his First Captain and throw them all in confinement and be done with the matter so that he could focus his efforts on the defense of the planet. That would be the easiest and most simple option. But after listening to their stories Calgar realised that the fact that the strange group of people had arrived here when they had, and from the visions of that his Chief Librarian had told him about, that it was more than a mere coincidence, and that something of earth-shattering importance was afoot. So disregarding the advice of his First Captain, Calgar gave his final verdict, his voice full of authority and laced with a hidden menace.

"I will allow you and your party to go to the Shrine of Guilliman" said the Chapter Master as surprised whispers echoed around the busy strategium. "However, you will be placed under heavy Ultramarine guard. While Agemman offers sage and simple advice, we must all remember that we all live in dark times. The Black Legion has once more set foot on Macragge, while the warp churns to madness in the sky above us. I will not dismiss the precognitive powers of my Chief Librarian, nor the wisdom of a living Saint as such a time as this, even if I have been given very little reason to trust Archmagos Cawl or the Eldar within your party. It is no mere accident that you are all arrayed before me today, so we need to see what the Emperor has demanded of us all in these strange times."

Not wasting any more time, Calgar turned to his still mostly stunned men and started to issue orders. It would be decided that 3rd company battle brothers would accompany the band along with an Honour guard and a contingent of First company Terminators alongside Calgar himself and Tigurius.

Falling into a loose formation once again, Saint Celestine gave the Chapter Master quiet words of thanks, praising his sagacity. Meanwhile, Cawl looked impatient, annoyed by the petty wranglings and politics which he'd been enveloped in, keen to be about his business. Further back in the procession, Inquisitor Greyfax and Marshal Amalrich exchanged loaded and suspicious glances as they walked side by side, neither trusting the allies which they'd been traveling with.

However, the very last people to leave the strategium were Azuma and Georgia who shared a quick hug and relieved smiles as they quietly chatted away throughout the journey to the shrine as the sun set beneath the majestic crown mountains visible from the armaglass windows of the strategium. The battle raging on into the night as explosions and gunfire lit up the twilight, the battle for the planet still in the balance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Wonder if any of you can guess where I'm going with this.**

 **Please enjoy**

* * *

Marching through the labyrinthian structure that was the Fortress of Hera, the Pilgrims along with Azuma and Georgia alighted at the entrance to the Shrine of the Primarch, the Ultramarine escort watching their every move with concealed menace.

The resting place of Roboute Guilliman was like stepping into the afterlife of an unfortunate warrior. The chamber itself was vast, vast enough that it could quite easily accommodate an Imperial titan. Marble columns held aloft a ceiling of stained armaglass and obsidian inlaid with theldrite moonsilver. Guilliman's greatest deeds were depicted in spectacular friezes and statuary, arranged around the chamber and lit artfully by flickering electrosconces to lend the images the greatest possible gravitas. Huge braziers of devotional incense burned throughout the shrine, lacing the air with subtle scents, while from cherub-visaged laud hailers spilled a steady background murmur of martial arias and reverent prayer.

Despite all this, all eyes were turned towards the figure ensconced by the protective barrier of the stasis chamber at one end of the chamber. There, upon the adamantium and marble inlaid throne sat the Primarch as though in thought, his eyes closed and his blood jewel like in a necklace around his throat. Guilliman wore his suit of Power Armour, still scarred by the damage sustained in his fateful duel with Fulgrim. On the floor before him lay the Emperor's Sword, once wielded by the master of the Imperium all those years ago. Though the Primarch sat peacefully upon his throne, the aura projected by the undead Primarch was palpable.

Slowly, and respectfully, the Pilgrims approached the throne, the Ultramarine escort marching by their side and Cawl's massive auto reliquary at the rear. As one, the group stopped at the steps leading up to the throne, a spot where countless Ultramarines had knelt in communion throughout the millennia.

Bowing his head, Marneus Calgar gave the respect which his gene-sire deserved before doing a 180 and addressing the pilgrims. Even so high up in the Crown Mountains, the sounds of battle were still audible over the howling wind and blizzard pummelling the walls of the Shrine.

Calgar drew a deep breath as he turned to address the Archmagos. "I have indulged you and your party long enough, but with the desperate battle still being fought outside these peaceful halls, I can offer you no more time and patience. Please, state your business here Archmagos Cawl."

Stepping forward, Cawl curtly nodded his head as he told an impossibly incredible story. "In the years before the Primarch's death, I was summoned into his confidence." The Techpriest started. "And while the Memegrams of those meetings that I have had with him have faded from my data banks, he charged me with a great labour, one that I, as well as the Imperium would be richly rewarded for using information which only a Primarch could provide. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to explain the nature of the tasks given to me. Though I can tell you that my labours have been split into two distinct parts" Cawl momentarily held up several of his mechadendrites to forestall Calgar's angry rebuttal. "And that I am here to deliver on the first of those."

Turning, the Archmagos bade his autoreliquary forward before continuing. "Within the sacred seals of this reliquary lies a suit of armour unlike any other. Within is a suit of Power Armour fit for a Primarch, one whose ancillary systems have the power to heal Guilliman's crippling wounds."

Within moments, stunned silence filled the sacred chamber. To bring back a Primarch, living and breathing. To restore one of the Emperor's chosen sons in the Imperium's hour of need. It was a thought which warmed the hearts of the Imperial warriors and filled them with awed wonderment as they pondered the implications of such a galactic event.

Then, before any could contemplate on the impossibly complex implications of the potential revival of the Primarch too much, Yvraine stepped to the fore with the subtle tap of high heeled shoes. "Furthermore, I am an emissary to the newly awakened Eldar god of dead, Ynnead, and my powers will be needed for the Primarch's restoration."

Glancing around, the Eldar noticed the confused looks sported by the Imperials, so with an irritated impatience, she continued explaining. "Unfortunately, such a miracle cannot be made without a sufficient sacrifice. The Archmagos has clearly laboured long and hard on his great work, but without my aid, the fruits of his labour will not be enough. In order for Roboute Guilliman to live, first he must die."

"No filthy Xeno will touch the Primarch for as long as I live!" Calgar vehemently shouted as the shrine devolved into chaos at Yvraine's final words. Weapons were raised, pointing them at Cawl, the Eldar, and even the auto reliquary itself. They only had to wait for their master's orders to open fire.

"I am bound by the terms issued by Guilliman" Cawl screeched in a hail of binary. "I must see my duty complete." His plan was utterly insane according to the Ultramarine escort. Still, others voiced their support for the apparent insanity that himself and Yvraine were suggesting.

"Please, everyone have faith" Saint Celestine implored those around her as she lowered her weapon. "This is the will of the Emperor."

"My Lord" TIgurius spoke in a calm voice which cut through the clamour as his staff tapped against the floor as he walked. "Please trust my council. I have seen strands of this future in my dreams" he finished as he stopped beside Archmagos Cawl.

Throughout the storm of angry retorts, Calgar's vox bead chimed incessantly in his ear. Angrily, the Chapter Master accepted the priority hail.

As this was happening, the pieces clicked together in Georgia's mind. The strange vision that she received on the mountain made sense now as she sprinted towards a random point in the crowded shrine to rugby tackle several Marines, seconds before the stained armaglass of the shrine's ceiling exploded inward.

Shattered crystals filled the air, shards the size of Storm Shields embedding themselves in the floors and walls along with anyone unfortunate enough to be in their deadly trajectory. A huge shape smashed into the shrine at terminal velocity. Hurtling down at an almost vertical angle, the Thunderhawk impacted the shrine's floor and skidded out of control. The badly damaged aircraft drifted across the shrine, plowing through beautiful marble columns before it eventually came to rest near the far wall of the shrine.

Before the vessel had so much as come to a stop, the crafts ramps burst open with the sounds of tortured metal. From within surged a group of Chaos Raptors, blaring their deafening war cries from their vox grills.

The Ultramarines responded instantly as Bolters and Assault Cannons opened fire on the Heretics. Puffs of corrupted blood appeared from within the fusillade of fire as Raptors were ruthlessly cut down.

Still, it was not enough as corrupted beacons, festooned in macabre trophies and anointed in demonic gore were impaled into the temple floor. For a few moments, empyric energies flowed around the icons as they gained power, reality momentarily being ripped asunder with the terrifying thunder of teleportation flares.

As the surviving raptors leapt clear, a hulking wedge of Chaos Terminators phased into existence, dozens of elite killers clad in Tactical Dreadnought armour.

Responding with ruthless efficiency, the Ultramarines opened up with Bolters and other weapons, tearing into the Chaos Terminators, the shells ricocheting off the hardened armour in a cacophonous fury. Though a few of their number stumbled and fell, the rest trudged forward, firing back as they went.

Turning, Calgar looked around the shrine in abject horror. The sacred Shrine of the Primarch, the heart of the chapter had been defiled by the Black Legion fiends. Already, a deadly gunfight was erupting, with loyalist defenders taking cover behind fallen statuary as the Chaos forces advanced towards the Primarch. Instantly, he was reminded of a telepathic communication from the Grey Knights, saying that they feared an assault which would impact the entire Imperium. To himself, Calgar cursed under his breath, hoping that whatever reinforcements the Grey Knights were sending would arrive sooner rather than later.

The Chapter Master was still supremely suspicious of Cawl and Yvraine, yet before him was a threat which was far more immediate, diabolical and deadly than them. So, with a refrain aimed at the pilgrims, Calgar too joined the furious battle which consumed the Shrine of the Primarch. He was not alone, as Saint Celestine turned from the shrine along with Georgia and Azuma, the latter following the Black Templars into battle.

* * *

As the fighting continued, tales of heroism and sacrifice played out throughout the shrine.

Inquisitor Grefax took a glancing shot to her ribs in the opening moments of the fight. The shell dented her armour, driving the air from her lungs. The inquisitor, seeing spots before her eyes, dropped hastily into cover to regain her composure.

The Inquisitor's bionic eye switched rapidly through a multitude of filters, collating tactical data and relaying threat assessments. To her front, she saw the girl Azuma fighting side by side with Marshall Amalrich.

Still catching her breath, Greyfax remembered the attachment the two of them had formed during the trip to Macragge, with Amalrich taking on the role of a teacher for the strange and mysterious woman. Honestly, the usually supremely suspicious Inquisitor was unsure how exactly she'd been convinced of Azuma's importance, but something, perhaps the will of the Emperor, or maybe the uniqueness of her made Greyfax believe that she indeed was. Regardless, the Inquisitor couldn't fault the stranger's fervour and skill with a blade.

Greyfax then turned, her bionic eye being momentarily blinded by the psychic energy that the woman called Georgia was emitting as she stood out in the open atop a mound of rubble, bolter rounds exploding harmlessly off her psychic shields or off her rock-hard skin.

With a morbid curiosity, the Inquisitor squirmed as she looked at the recently revealed psyker who impaled her simple staff into the cracked ground below, placing her hands together as energy built between them, finally releasing it to form a protective barrier around a group of loyalists who were pinned down. The spell worked, knocking back attackers and allowing the Ultramarines to move to a more advantageous position without being gunned down in the process.

Despite everything, the traitors pushed ever onward, and as they did so, new warriors appeared to fill the gaps in their ranks. Teleport energies flared again as a trio of sorcerers materialised. At the same time, Dreadclaw Drop Pods plunged through the shattered ceiling above, disgorging more of Abaddon's chosen warriors.

The Ultramarines stood their ground, despite being increasingly outnumbered, weathering the thunderous blows of their heretical brothers. Veteran's rattled volleys of fire into the advancing foe, ripping Black Legionnaires off their feet or blasting them apart. Blue armoured Terminators dueled with their counterparts as Power Fists delivered crushing blows.

Greyfax's Psyocculum chimed a warning as Warp energies built amidst the battle. Following the device's brass needle, the Inquisitor saw the trio of sorcerers with their staves raised, black fire boiling in the air above them. Rising from her cover, Greyfax lined up her bolter and launched a silver stake at the nearest sorcerer. Cursing as the projectile failed to hit its mark, she ducked back down into cover to reload as ordinance blew it apart. As she did so, Greyfax saw that not all of the pilgrims, or that of their hosts had joined the fight.

The Inquisitor swore again as she saw Cawl hunched over the controls of his auto reliquary. The Magos's metallic fingers danced across glowing runes, his mechadendrites slithering from one port to another while Yvraine and the Skitarii stood guard over him. Beside them stood the Ultramarines Chief Librarian, warp light glowing in his eyes and flowing around his stave.

As Greyfax watched, several frothing Beserkers charged at the man. Quickly, the Librarian barked a string of words that caused the Khorne worshippers to implode in a crumbled mess of flesh and metal.

Greyfax's Psyocculum was confused by the event as it blurted out contradicting readings as the life energies of the Beserkers left their bodies but did not vanish altogether. The ghost reading flickered around Yvraine and the inquisitor's suspicions of the Eldar deepened as she realised that she had, in some fashion that she couldn't comprehend, been empowered by the stolen animus.

The Inquisitor tried to push herself up out of cover without being immediately shot to pieces, intending to dash across the shrine and order Cawl to stop in the name of the Holy Inquisition. She didn't get very far though as she found herself locked in place, bound by a spell which had completely bypassed the wards and runes that Greyfax wore on her person.

Before she could think on it much though, an incredibly heavy mass crashed into her, breaking the spell and knocking the inquisitor to the ground.

Looking up at the shattered ceiling of the shrine, she locked her eyes with the heterochromatic ones of Georgia. "Please don't be a short-sighted fool inquisitor" the battleship admonished. "Look around you, we are losing, and we're going to need a miracle if we want to survive this bloodbath. You have psychic powers yourself, don't you?"

Greyfax didn't offer a verbal reply, opting to spit on Georgia's face. The black-haired girl didn't like it, but continued on regardless. "How about you swallow your arrogance as being a 'member of the most Holy Inquisition' and look into the future?"

"Let me go you stupid, naive idiot" Greyfax tried to struggle, but was completely unable to overcome the iron grip Georgia had on the inquisitor.

"I gave you a chance" Georgia quietly said, her voice carrying easily over the sounds of battle around the two women. "I will not allow such a narrow-minded bitch to ruin the miracle that Archmagos Cawl and Yvraine are trying to achieve" the battleship cruelly smiled.

Rising, Georgia swiftly and brutally knocked the inquisitor out with a ruthless uppercut to the chin. Satisfied that the Inquisitor wouldn't try and interfere anymore, Georgia stood up and turned around, a spell already forming on her fingertips which would aid her battered allies.

Further down the fractured steps leading to the dead Primarch's throne, Marneus Calgar battled within the intense melee.

The Chapter Master swung his right gauntlet in a punishing arc, hammering it through his enemy's guard and catching the Terminator under the jaw. Before the traitor even hit the ground, Calgar was already turning on the spot, both gauntlets held out and bolters thundering their murderous tune.

The Chapter Master rotated in a half circle, blazing rounds into the Black Legionnaires on every side. Quickly, he blocked the return swipe of a crackling power mace. It was then that he caught sight of movement at the base of Guilliman's throne, cold terror gripping his hearts.

He saw Archmagos Cawl step back from his auto reliquary with the air of someone completing a satisfying task. The device then hummed forward, unfurling like the petals of some huge carnivorous flower.

Calgar was at the wrong angle to properly see the machine, but he swore he could see unfurling mechadendrites, clamping pincers and bone drills which filled him with utter revulsion.

The reliquary continued to rise and stretch out, enfolding the dead Primarch in its embrace. At the same moment, the Eldar witch priest lunged as she raised her blade high.

"No!" Calgar bellowed, finding his voice through the cacophony of war. "I command you to stop! In the Emperor's name, brother Tigurius stop them!"

In reply, he saw Tigurius looking straight at him, shaking his head. "Do it!" Shouted the Chief Librarian. "And may the Emperor condemn me if you have played me false xeno."

In complete desperation, Calgar raised his bolters and prepared to fire, but Yvraine's blade fell lightning fast, hacking through the cabling that fed power to the stasis field surrounding Guilliman. The protective shielding flared, and from within the closing arms of the auto reliquary, Calgar heard a rattling sigh which he knew would haunt him till his dying day.

"What have you done!" The Chapter Master roared in complete fury. Fists clenched, he turned upon the traitors that had forced the terrible tragedy to come to pass and he waded back into the clashing melee with unbridled rage.

Up atop the steps leading to the Primarch's throne, the auto reliquary had engulfed Roboute Guilliman as designators and lights flickered in mesmerising patterns across its surface. As though spurred on by the sight, the Black Legion attackers redoubled their efforts to secure the shrine.

Bellowing obscene war cries, the Black Legion terminators drove hard into their foes. The Chapter Master was pushed back by his enemies as they surrounded him, allowing their allies free passage toward the throne. Gunfire echoed thunderously around the shrine in a deafening staccato rhythm as the traitors let fly into Cawl's archaic device, bolts and other munitions exploding harmlessly against void shielding, unable to pierce the data wards to damage the device behind.

All across the shaking temple, the dwindling forces of the Imperium fought like caged lions to hold back their foes. Georgia had thrown Tigurius's strict warning to keep her identity a relative secret out the window, and was now lobbing 457mm high explosive shells down range, bringing down masonry and Chaos warriors alike with each deadly salvo. In her hands, she weaved energies between them and her staff, lending whatever aid she could to her allies with her still limited psychic knowledge.

Atop a mounting pile of corpses, Azuma still fought back to back with Marshall Amalrich, seemingly untiring as her eyes burned bright with golden fervour as the duo killed anyone and anything that would dare challenge them.

Once more, teleport energies flared as a squad of Grey Knight Paladins flashed into being, bolstering the crumbling Imperial lines wherever they could.

For a few moments, the battle hung in the balance. Then, a second flight of Dreadclaw Drop Pods began their descent upon the shrine, fire billowing around their hulls as they fell. No scattered handful of reinforcements were they, but a pinpoint attack wave of ten armoured pods, held in reserve to render the killing blow. Escorts dived alongside them, sacrificing themselves so the Drop Pods stayed unscathed.

As one, the Dreadclaws opened to disgorge squad after squad of heretical killers. An entire warband surged into battle. It was a force whose combined strength could subdue worlds. The Black Legion reinforcements struck the Imperial defence like a battering ram.

Ultramarine veterans and honour guard fell as they were riddled with overwhelming fire. Courageous Terminators crumbled, Calgar being brought low by a surging mass of foes, the remaining Imperial defenders charging into the fray to reap as much blood as they could before they eventually succumbed to the relentless attack.

Everywhere, the massed Chaos worshippers pressed forward, engulfing the shrinking island of Imperial resistance under a rising tide of bodies. Not a single defender took a step back, but it was clear that their lives could be measured in solar minutes at most.


	8. Chapter 8

**Shorter chapter this time to tie up the first arc.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

The foremost Black Legionnaires were mere meters away from the foot of the throne when the panels on the auto reliquary flickered from red to green. From it, a single chime sounded, a clear note that cut through the rumbling sounds of war which had engulfed the shrine. The Archmagos, himself fighting back to back with his allies let loose with a cry of triumph. The next moment, the outstretched arms of the auto reliquary folded back with a hiss to reveal a sight of breath-taking splendour.

Where a few hours before, Roboute Guilliman had sat as a pale, stasis locked revenant, he now stood awake, very much alert and alive. His presence was immense, dominant in its intensity as it filled the shrine with its crushing pressure. The Primarch was clad in a magnificent suit of armour, a masterwork which had travelled all the way from the forges of Mars. In one hand, he held the Emperor's sword, lit now from hilt to tip with leaping flames, and his eyes shone with a look of such murderous intensity that even the loyalists within the shrine quailed to see.

It was as though a spell had settled over the shrine. Though outside the war thundered on, within the echoing chamber both friend and foe alike stared in awe at the legendary figure reborn in their midst. Then, a scream shattered the silence as a single Khorne Berserker charged through the stunned combatants to launch himself at the Primarch. Guilliman moved with insane speed as he bisected the Khorne worshipper and hurled his severed halves to the ground.

As the armoured corpse crashed to the floor, the spell over the shrine was broken. With a howl of hate, the Chaos worshippers surged towards the Primarch. Wordlessly, the demigod strode to meet them, and that was when the carnage truly began.

Saint Celestine looked up at the reborn Primarch, and knew the abiding satisfaction of a glorious task completed in the Emperor's holy name. Here was a son of the God Emperor of Mankind, here to lead the Imperium out of the encroaching darkness that, with each passing day, seemed more certain to engulf it entirely. In what greater endeavour could she have played a part? What single event could possibly more important than the manifestation of this miracle? Humbly, Celestine offered up her thanks to the Emperor for permitting her to be a part of such a wonderous thing.

Around her, the battle raged on, yet every single aspect of it had changed. The corpses of Imperial defenders were no longer a tragic waste, but instead the fallen bodies of martyrs whose sacrifice would be immortalised forever. The traitors filling the shrine were no longer hated despoilers, but instead the first of an endless tally of heretics that the Primarch would lay low.

"Thank you" Celestine implored, tears rolling down her cheeks as she turned her face towards the heavens above the shattered shrine. "Thank you, my Emperor. He is a blessing we do not deserve."

* * *

Elsewhere in the chamber, Tigurius alighted next to Georgia who was standing atop the same pile of rubble that she had started the fight on a few hours prior. "Thank you for stopping the Inquisitor" the Librarian's powerful voice carried over the din around the pair. "Her arrogance would have been the undoing of us all and any hope of reviving the Primarch lost forever."

"I was simply doing my duty" Georgia smiled. "I wasn't going to let the stuck-up woman unintentionally sign our death warrants. Though I am not looking forward to when she wakes up. I'll probably have hell to pay for knocking her out."

"I concur" Tigurius replied in between barking words of power and weaving spells. "Though I will be more than willing to vouch for you, though I don't think you need to worry. A Primarch walks among us again. That should be excuse enough for your actions."

"I hope you're right" Georgia smirked as the pair turned their full attention back to their hated foes, psychic energy coursing through their bodies.

By the time the two of them had finished talking, Guilliman had cleared out the enemies from around the throne, now striding down the crumbling steps to engage the bulk of the enemy forces on the main floor of the temple.

With every blow, Guilliman sent mutated corpses tumbling through the air. His expression was graven granite and frozen hate, a mask of vengeance that had endured millennia. For the Primarch, his last memory was of a desperate battle against a tainted brother, a fraternal contest of blades and hateful taunts, then poison and pain beyond endurance.

Now, he found himself in strange surroundings, facing a twisted horde of creatures that were nightmarish parodies of the Space Marine ideal. Not that his allies struck Guilliman as any more familiar, but at least he could see who was tainted by Chaos and not, and for the moment, it was enough. He would compartmentalise his questions for later, and concentrated solely on the battle at hand.

* * *

The Black Legion continued to hurl themselves at the reborn Primarch, clearly willing to sustain any amount of casualties if it meant laying Guilliman low. Yet they were laughably outmatched in every regard, the Primarch reaping a bloody tally as he drove the traitors back.

As they retreated, so too did they reveal the prone form of Marneus Calgar, bloodied and broken but still alive, Guilliman pausing for a moment to regard the fallen son. The Chapter Master stirred, opening one eye to look up at the Primarch. Satisfied that he still lived, Guilliman pressed on, leaving the Chapter Master to stare in disbelief at his resurrected gene sire.

Across the chamber, the remaining Space Marine defenders hunted down the enemy leaders, braving empiric energies and razor-sharp blades as they drove them back, giving the traitors the bloody deaths that they justly deserved. Seeing the gruesome deaths of his comrades, the last Chaos sorcerer lost his nerve, barking orders at his underlings to cover his retreat from the shrine.

The sorcerer turned in his lumberingly cumbersome terminator armour, and found himself face to face with a girl, an immensely pretty one with a deadly look on her face. Instantly, witchlight rushed into the sorcerer as he attempted to cast a potent curse on the whelp that dared stand in his way. However, before he could so much as spit the jagged syllables needed to unleash his power, Azuma had swerved around his swinging staff to stab her sword at the leg joints in the sorcerer's armour. Such was the power of the attack, that the Chaos champion was brought to the floor in a crash of whining servos and blood. Lightning fast, she did the same with the other leg before she clamped her free hand firmly around his gorget. In an impressive display of strength, Azuma forced the traitor onto his back, the sorcerer making a last croaking attempt to speak before the cruiser's sword was rammed into his face, corrupted flesh parting as easily as silk. Not yet satisfied, she then plunged her weapon down the sorcerer's digestive tract, flesh and bone exploding in a crackling spray, the traitor toppling backwards as a headless, gutless corpse.

Now leaderless and reaped like corn by the unstoppable Primarch and his allies, the last of the Chaos warriors turned and fled, though not a single one would escape the Fortress of Hera alive.

* * *

By the time reinforcements reached the shrine, the fighting was done. Every single Ultramarine who rushed into the vaulted space dropped to their knees in worshipful aw at the sight of the reborn Primarch.

Calm now, the initial fury of his sudden revival having passed, Guilliman took charge of his men. He asked no questions, save those of a purely strategic nature. He made no reference to the circumstances of his rebirth, his long sleep, or the strangers that he found himself surrounded by. The Primarch would doubtless want answers to the myriad of questions that he harboured, but that would have to be put on hold, for the enemy still threatened the citadel of his chapter.

News of the Primarch spread like wildfire throughout the Fortress of Hera. It was proclaimed from every vox speaker, shouted from every rampart, and broadcast from the vocal emitters of countless Cybercherubim that fluttered through the throng of war. Guilliman ensured it was so, for he understood well that his living presence would embolden his armies and cow his enemies. Ultramarines and defence auxilia first felt bewilderment, then newfound strength as they processed the incredible news. The forces of Chaos by comparison faltered in their attack.

The Primarch himself made straight for the stategium and like a master musician settling before their instrument, got to work. With his every word, the invader's plight became more apparent. Guilliman's strategic mind, tactical genius and mental acuity were unmatched. The leaders of the Ultramarines looked on in astonishment as the Primarch marshalled the defenders like chess pieces, drinking in strategic data and issuing a stream of orders that turned one fight after another in the defender's favour. The Chapter Master had executed a masterful campaign of defiance against the invaders, but the Primarch was operating on an entirely different plane.

By the time the Primarch and his coterie strode out to lead the fight in person, the Chaos attack was in disarray. The assault led by Guilliman into the heart of their lines was the final blow which broke the traitors back. Black Legion, Alpha Legion and Night Lords; all were hurled back from the fortress walls. Traitor titans toppled like vast, flaming trees to smash down in ruin. Just three hours after his resurrection, Roboute Guilliman concluded the wholesale purge of Chaos invaders from the Fortress of Hera, and proclaimed the Ultramarines citadel secure.

Then, came the time where breath could be drawn, and stock taken. Even as servitors and serfs worked to shore up the fortress' defences, Guilliman summoned a select company to attend him in the Chapter Master's personal chambers. It had long been the domain and throne room of Marneus Calgar, only now it would become the home of the Primarch himself, and it was there that he was formally crowned the Lord of Ultramar and the master of the Ultramarines once more.

As the ceremony concluded, Guilliman rose and addressed those assembled to witness his coronation. "There is much to be done to rid the enemy from this blessed realm" Guilliman said in a compassionate voice. "However, before I act further, I need to know everything that has occurred during my long absence."


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm back, for anyone that cared. Just a heads up, I really like to fiddle with chapters as I get new ideas to improve my storylines and plots. Some of the stuff in this chapter is old, and some of it is new.**

 **Please enjoy.**

* * *

"Thank you all for attending" Guilliman said as he stood up from his throne in his now new sanctum. "If you will please excuse me, I have much to think over" he gestured to the end of the room where a group of serfs opened the grand doors of the chamber, the people in attendance for his coronation quietly and respectfully filtering out of the room to get on with whatever activities they were required to do; whether it was taking part in the battle for the planet, tending to the defences of the fortress, or reporting to superiors about the astonishing events that had just unfolded.

Two people who had absolutely no idea what they were meant to do though were Azuma and Georgia who had watched the coronation from the side-lines along with the Eldar in attendance. They had taken part in the gargantuan fight for the shrine, and had been given no further orders. So it came as a welcome surprise when Chief Librarian Tigurius quickly strode up to them and ushered the two women out of the way of the crowds. Leading them to a quieter area away from the Primarch's sanctum, he turned around to address the two girls.

"Unfortunately, I do not have any praise to offer you two personally, and that I have my own duties to attend to, so I am going to hand you over to my personal attendant when we reach my own quarters. Decimus will be able to give you accommodation and food for at least the next few days. For now, the Primarch will want to interview myself and the rest of Chapter command. No doubt he will want to speak with you two as well. I am sure that I don't need to tell you that you must attend him if you value your life. The Primarch is not kind to those who do not heed his words."

"I don't think that will be a problem" Georgia replied as the three of them walked through the winding passages of the fortress; gliding around defence auxilia and other base personnel rushing up and down the main thoroughfares, towards the Chief Librarian's quarters.

"Though I don't see why he would want to see us. After all, we're just random nobodies who've been dumped here for some strange reason." Georgia added to her previous statement once they reached the quieter areas of the citadel.

"Maybe he has some more information for us?" Azuma quietly put forward her theory.

"I think it will be you who will be asking the questions" Tigurius nodded his head as they passed through the bulkhead leading to a more lavishly decorated wing of the labyrinthian structure. "I have a feeling that he has been planning something during the time that he has been in stasis which is now starting to come to fruition."

"Decimus?" Tigurius called out as the three of them entered the Librarian's arming chamber. Tigurius's personal serf appearing out of the side entrance a moment later. The man looked much the same as he did a few days ago when Georgia had last seen him, only this time his hair was matted and he smelled slightly of blood. Clearly, everyone within the Ultramarine's citadel had to take part in its defence if need be.

"Yes my Lord?" The man respectfully said as he clasped his hands together.

"Please be a gentleman and find these two fine ladies a place to stay" Tigurius said as he walked towards the door that would lead further into his rooms, saying a small farewell before closing the door behind him.

"So yes" Decimus continued as he clapped his hands together again. "A room for you two" he said as he led the two warships back out into the corridor.

* * *

Leading Georgia and Azuma through the fortress of Hera, the three of them passed by apothecaries, workshops, hangars, mess halls and rooms containing countless other items. It was clear that if need be, the fortress could sustain itself for months, perhaps even years against a siege if it had to. It was a crazy structure both in its vastness and complexity. It had to have taken hundreds of years to build, and the amount of resources used to make it was absolutely mind boggling. That fact was becoming more and more apparent the more Georgia and Azuma spent within the place.

Eventually, after thirty minutes of walking, Georgia and Azuma alighted at a very unassuming door standing flush against the hard-stone wall. Typing a code into a well-hidden key pad the door slid into the wall, revealing a simply furnished room with two cots, a wash basin and a simple shower. It was bare bones basic, but it had all the essentials and honestly, it was just what the two girls needed.

"This is rather nice" Azuma approvingly said as she stepped into the double room.

"Yeah" Georgia added, having nothing more to add.

"Well, I wish you a good stay at the Fortress of Hera" Decimus grandly said with an incredibly sarcastic voice as he gave an incredibly over the top bow before retreating back down the corridor the three of them had come down.

As the door slid shut behind the two women, Azuma plonked herself down on one of the surprisingly comfortable bunks. "Sooo…." The large cruiser started as she turned to her new roommate.

"Yeah" Georgia said, also having no idea how to break the ice between the two women.

"Shower and then go for a walk?" Azuma suggested as she flicked her hair around so that she could examine the bloody strands.

"I can do that" Georgia smiled. "I feel so yucky and sticky and I'm too awake to sleep. That battle for the shrine was absolutely insane."

"Uhmm" Azuma mumbled as she took her head in her hands, still shaking from adrenaline and nerves. "The amount of death and killing was crazy. I'm surprised my arms haven't fallen off from all the fighting that I've done."

"You were on that mound for the entire time, right?" Georgia asked. Remembering the mounting pile of corpses Azuma had been fighting on top of.

"Effectively yeah" Azuma shivered slightly. "I had way too many close calls though."

"You would have been fine" the battleship in the room smiled.

"Still" Azuma sighed. "I would rather not replay those moments in my sleep later."

"Just like I don't want to think about all the strange powers that have awoken in me since I arrived here."

"So how long have you been in this place?" Azuma had now gathered herself back up and was now slowly pacing around the small room.

"Like, maybe less than a week" Georgia shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly, these last few days have gone by so fast that I don't even know."

"So less than me" Azuma mumbled. "I have no clue why I'm here, but having someone to commiserate with is really nice." She turned to Georgia and gave her a beautiful smile despite the grime on her face.

"Yeah" Georgia returned the gesture. "Let's get clean and go for a walk."

* * *

So, the pair of did just that. They tore off their filthy and ragged clothing, showered and putting on a a fresh set of robes that had been provided for them. Once that was done, they left their room and set out on a trip around the Fortress of Hera.

They still weren't tired, in part due to their more than human endurance, and the adrenaline of less than a day ago still coursing through their bloodstreams. They weren't tense though, rather relaxed yet somewhat lacking purpose. So, by walking down what seemed like endless and identical corridors and walkways, they tried to find something useful to pass the time given to them. And eventually they did, stumbling upon a large sparring chamber some fifteen minutes after setting off. It was currently being used by a dozen or so Marines practicing hand to hand combat outside of their armour.

Azuma and Georgia were both impressed and disgusted by how the men looked outside of their armour. The girls were impressed by just how muscular, manly and strong they looked, but freaked out by the number of ports protruding from their bodies where their armour interfaced with their bodies.

Shuffling closer to the edge of the viewing platform above the arena below, the pair pondered whether they should disturb the practicing Space Marines and go down and perhaps join in.

"What do you think?" Azuma asked Georgia, feeling very much like a little girl.

"I don't know" Georgia shrugged. "I want to, but I don't know."

"There's nothing around here though" Azuma continued. "Apart from endless and confusing corridors."

"True" Georgia cocked her head, looking down at the fighting below. "I don't feel like resting and sleeping at all."

"So you think we should?" Azuma momentarily fiddled with her hair.

"I don't know about you" Georgia whispered. "But I'm so bored. If we give them space, what's wrong with going down there and just practicing?"

Slowly nodding her head in thought Azuma replied after a few seconds. "Fine then, lets go down there" the large cruiser said as she stood up.

* * *

It took a few extra minutes to find the entrance and another few to choose practice weapons from the small armoury. But eventually the pair were ready as they stepped into the sparring pit.

Thankfully, no one paid them any heed as they walked over to a corner in the circular chamber and started to practice. It took a little bit of time to get used to the wooden weapons, having very different properties to the ones they'd used earlier, but eventually, they found a rhythm that worked for them.

Azuma and Georgia were surprisingly well-matched opponents. The large cruiser was faster, and had a slightly better technique while the battleship was stronger and able to push her weight around to nullify the speed advantage which the more agile girl had.

Just like in the fight for the shrine, time seemed to fall away from the pair, their sense of time failing them as they focused their entire being on the opponent in front of them. There were slashes, lunges, ripostes and deadly feints, all hallmarks of excellent duellists.

Occasionally, strikes did get through though, eliciting grunts of pain and ugly welts on otherwise smooth, perfect skin. Azuma and Georgia were sweating, muscles starting to ache as Azuma feigned a horizontal cut. Georgia moved to intercept the non-existent strike, reacting too late to the final blow which knocked the wind right out of her as she collapsed to the floor.

Azuma too dropped to her knees, dripping in sweat as she drew in as much air as she could through her exhausted lungs, suddenly feeling very tired as the negative effects of her second wind caught up with her.

Five minutes later, and the pair had regained enough composure to stand back up. Looking around, Azuma and Georgia noticed that the Space Marines also practicing within the arena were now shooting them quizzical and interested looks, having stopped their own practice.

From the group a squad Sergeant stepped out, and introduced himself, congratulating the pair on their clear martial skills and asking them the insane question if they would care to join his men in unarmed combat. It was so unexpected. Azuma and Georgia were expecting the sergeant to kick them out of the sparring chamber. Perhaps, they did not care who used the space, only that they used it for what it was designed to do and gave it their all. Still having no idea what to do, the pair voiced their agreement before doing their rounds practicing with the Marines of the Second Company, the girls learning something new every spar and incorporating it into their technique.

After a few more hours, Azuma and Georgia had finally had enough, the impossibly insane events of the last few days finally catching up with their bodies and minds. Both of them had been awake for more than 72 hours, with most of their waking hours being spent in battle fighting for their lives.

So, the two now exhausted women shuffled back to their room, somehow managing to remember the winding way they'd taken from their room through the labyrinthian fortress. Quickly, the pair showered and fell into their cots, sleep quickly taking them. Their dreams accented by the return of a legendary figure, the heroic battle for the shrine, and for Georgia, a sinister vision of her future.

* * *

From the darkest depths of the oceans, they came.

No one knew who they were or where they came from, but what was known is that the Abyssal fleet, powerful entities taking the form of young women, emerged one day without warning to force mankind from the Earth's oceans. Appearing first in the Pacific, and then spreading across the seven seas like a black plague, mankind soon found itself under siege.

The world was thrown into chaos by this new threat. Shipping lanes were severed, global communications disrupted and millions of lives lost at sea.

Civilisation itself was at stake.

Mankind tried to fight back against these enemies, but found that even their strongest ships could barely hold the line against an enemy that seemed numberless. Worse still, despite the bravery and courage of many brave souls, that line eventually broke.

With the destruction of Pearl Harbour in the Pacific, and the worsening situation in the many island nations which dotted the globe, it seemed that mankind's defenders had finally failed, and the fall of humanity was at hand.

But then a miracle happened.

As if hearing the call of duty once more, protectors in the form of young women, bearing the reincarnated souls of warships of ages past, took up arms.

First appearing in Europe, young women wielding powers that could fight against the blight were found, trained and then sent into battle against the Abyssal fleet.

These heroes were simply called 'shipgirls'.

In the Pacific, the young women of the former Imperial Japanese Navy fought valiantly to protect vast convoy fleets as they evacuated the vulnerable nations located within the Indonesian sub-continent. The Royal Navy, having laid to rest their bad blood with the Kriegsmarine, worked alongside the French Navy to rid the North Sea and English Channel of the Abyssal menace. The Regia Marina, now flying the standard of the Marina Militare, swept the Mediterranean clean of Abyssals too, while the Red fleet braved the harsh artic cold in a deadly game of cat and mouse against their quarry in the North.

That was five years ago. Since then, the Abyssal fleet had been pushed back, away from many of the world's most vulnerable port cities and countries by the combined efforts of the brave shipgirls. But they returned renewed in greater numbers to once more take control of the oceans, and this time, there was nothing the shipgirls could do. Since the counterattack and the subsequent defeat, the world had returned to a state of semi-normality. The threat of war still lingering on everyone's minds despite it having devolved into a tense stalemate.

* * *

Neville Chamberlain, a government official, part of the Conservative party front bench was standing inside a jeweller's in London's west end, admiring the intricately designed pieces in the display cabinets as he waited for the store clerk to return with the item that he'd ordered around a week ago.

"I'm sorry sir" the clerk and the shop managers apprentice Joe appeared from a door behind the counter. "Since my boss isn't here, I've been doing all the smithing and jewel cutting work myself and I just haven't had time to complete your order with all of the others that we have."

"That's quite alright" Neville sighed. He would have liked to have the earrings now, but he could hardly be angry with the overworked boy, especially when he apologised so politely. "Do you have any estimate on when exactly your manager will be back?"

"He was meant to be back last week sir" Joe momentarily looked up from the counter where he was sorting through some papers. "You're guess is as good as mine" he shrugged. "Although the moment that I have the assignment, I can deliver it directly to your house" Joe suggested.

"That may work" Neville looked Joe directly in the eyes as he nodded his head. "Have a good day" Neville finished as he put on his top hat and left the store.

Hearing the sound of the door click shut, Joe let out a huge sigh of relief. That could have gone so wrong he thought as he briefly massaged his sore hands. He was honestly furious that his manager had left him to tend to the jewellery shop on his own while he went on holiday for what was meant to only be a few weeks. Even the other employees of the store hadn't been in. The last Joe had heard was that they were all of six leave, all five of them.

Looking at his watch, Joe loosened his tie as he started to close up for the day. Shutting down the computers and priming the security system, Joe thought about what he was going to have for dinner. Briefly, he thought about getting some fast food or a takeaway but thought better of it. The choice of food for ordinary citizens had gone down drastically since the start of the Abyssal war due to supply and demand issues. Though, Joe wouldn't even call it a war as such, more like a cold war. He rarely put much thought to it though as he had more immediate concerns like paying taxes, food and amenities with his effectively minimum wage.

After giving the matter some more thoughts as he turned the key in the front door lock, he decided to be utterly basic and have sandwiches. God, he grumbled to himself momentarily as he started walking in the direction of home that his life would be so much easier if the Abyssals hadn't shown up.

* * *

The rattling of the Rhino APC woke Georgia from her meditations as she was transported through the war-torn wastes of Macragge. Around her were her squad mates who had volunteered themselves to oversee the recently revealed psyker. Leading the group was veteran sergeant Amadeus who was armed with a consecrated bolter, just in case Georgia went insane.

The Rhino ground to a halt on the shattered plascrete highways of the city as the squad disembarked. Coming out last, Georgia donned her helmet to hide her identity, although her ornate relic armour telegraphed her gender regardless. Looking around, she saw that the hastily constructed forward base was a veritable hive of activity. Around her, workers were making the finishing touches to tents, buildings and perimeter walls all the while squads of PDF soldiers, tanks and other vehicles rolled past. Hearing the whine of a departing Valkyrie gunship, Georgia looked up to see that the entire compound was bathed in harsh white light which cut through the eerie mist which had descended on the city of Collosae. Advanced reports had indicated that cruel bands of Night Lords had committed diabolical rituals to bath the ruined city in eternal darkness.

Striding after her squad mates, Georgia navigated past the trundling vehicles and busy workers as she was led inside the central command bunker by an overworked and underfed soldier. Passing by the banks of cogitator stations, Georgia stepped onto the centre dais of the command room with the rest of the squad. Before her, a large holographic layout of the city and surrounding lands was spread out on a table. The captain of the 4th company, Uriel Ventris was waiting to personally brief Georgia's squad.

"Brothers", the veteran Space Marine forwent any pleasantries and dived straight into the tactical briefing. "You will be sent out on a routine combat patrol within what are deemed as secure zones within the city." A 3d layout of Collosae appeared on the stratagem, parts of the city flashing red denoting their patrol route. "Before you participate in any further operations within the city, it is important that you reconnoitre the area, more so than the codex demands. This mist, his gestured to the blackness outside the prefab "interferes with all vox communication, meaning the only contact that you will have with chapter command will be through the Librarian" Uriel gave Georgia a loaded look. "Expect trouble" Ventris said as he adjourned the brief meeting. Tapping on a nearby console, he transferred the patrol route details to each member of the squad.

Stepping back outside, harsh white light once more bathed Georgia as veteran sergeant Amadeus strode up to her. "You understand?" he simply asked.

"Yes sergeant" Georgia said with what she thought was a convincing tone.

"Do you really though?" he pressed.

Georgia sighed behind the mask of her helmet. "Some of it I do" her momentary anger being transmitted through her helmet speaker as a brutal growl. "Enough to understand how to work as a squad and kill the enemies of man."

Amadeus turned to look Georgia up and down before nodding his head and donning his own helmet, happy with the woman's answer.

* * *

After final weapons and armour checks were made, the squad left the harsh lights of the forward compound, past weary looking PDF forces towards what was presumably a secure sector. Regardless, weapons were ready and loaded as ten sets of red lenses peered out into the dark, enveloping mists that surrounded the city of Collosae.

Walking down a main thoroughfare, the sounds of the forward base faded into the distance as the squad moved towards a district of once expensive habblocks and residences. Georgia saw the remains of statues and promenades strewn across the boulevard like a giant's playset. In the back of her mind, she could feel the corrupting influence of the mists clawing at the edges of her mind, as she heard whispered screams of tortured victims. She felt something rub a knobbly, clawed, burning hand against her head. The mist was definitely a creation of some foul Chaos ritual.

Behind and to the right, Georgia saw an armoured column of PDF forces bound for what was presumably a more hostile sector; the turreted weapons of Leman Russ tanks swinging menacingly from side to side as they scanned for any potential threats.

Leaving the compound, and the main routes of the city behind, Georgia and her squad started down their long patrol path properly, full of narrow streets and boulevards – perfect place for an ambush. It didn't happen though, as the reached their first checkpoint three hours later, the caved-in remains of an administration centre with no sign of hostile activity.

As the squad spread out to create a temporary perimeter, Georgia turned her mind inwards as she used her powers to reach into the swirling energies of the empyrean. Whispering an incantation to the Emperor, she let her soul drift as she sought out the person within the warp. Reaching out with a blinding white hand, she touched fingers with the person she wanted to speak with, creating a mental connection with the Imperial psyker back at the base camp attached to her squad.

"Squad has successfully reached checkpoint one" Georgia started, mouthing the words even though she only spoke with her mind. "No hostile forces detected, moving onto checkpoi-"

THUM

The sound of an explosion rocked her connection to the warp. Feeling that her body was in mortal danger, she severed the connection to the psyker.

"Enemies inbound, south west quadrant" a member of her squad shouted over the inter squad comms, the sound of bolter fire punctuating his words.

"Enemy numbers?" Amadeus asked as he scrambled up a nearby structure to gain better spatial understanding of their area.

"Unknown" Octavius said. "The Chaos forces are using the mist as a shroud. I'm shooting at ghosts and muzzle flashes.

"Lure them in" Amadeus said. "Brother Khan, flank from the north west, see if we can't get more precise information on them."

"There are ten of them sergeant" Georgia interjected after she had regained her bearings. "Space Marines, they have a sorcerer with them." She gravely finished.

"Move away from the plaza, this is an untenable position" Amadeus ordered seconds after receiving the new information. "Retreat to the south, we need some cover."

From the incessant whisperings of doom and dream coming from the mists, a squad of Raptors roared into view, arcing towards the Ultramarine squad on pillars of fire.

Crashing down with earth shattering force, they bellowed cursed battle cries as they charged towards Georgia's retreating squad. Turning, Georgia started running towards the Raptor squad, issuing a war cry of her own as she brought her force staff in front of her. Making a split-second decision, Amadeus ordered the squad to join battle with the Raptors. Running out of the cover of shattered plascrete blocks, the Ultramarine squad fired of bolter rounds as they ran back into the plaza as they themselves dodged incoming rounds from their mist shrouded attackers.

The combat was a whirlwind of razor sharp blades. The librarians hood on Georgia's armour glowed an ethereal blue as she readied one of the few psychic abilities that she knew. Instantly, her mind changed, everything slowing down to a snail's pace before her eyes. Before her, she could see traces of movements, weapon swings and deadly wounds which were seconds from being inflicted. Lunging forward, she stopped one enemy dead in its tracks, the blunt force of her weapon pulverising the corrupted flesh within spiked, rusting armour. In a fluid movement she then redirected the swing of a traitor's axe so it brushed past the exposed armour joints of one of her squad. Yet, as quickly as this new perception of time had come, it abruptly disappeared again. Georgia was powerful, very powerful, yet so untrained.

Like the click of a finger, the skirmish returned to speed in a flash of blades. The enemies on the outskirts of the plaza had stopped firing the moment the melee was joined and were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they were nothing more than ghosts, or maybe they were not foolish enough to risk shooting their own within the melee. Or, the raptors were just a bait from the sorcerer. The Raptors were definitely real though, yet they were handily losing the fight. Individual duels had been won by Georgia's squad as they doubled up on the remaining enemy combatants with ruthless efficiency.

Two minutes after the battle with the Raptors was joined, it was over, the arena falling back into eerie silence. Somewhere out in the murky darkness, the sorcerer and his retinue still lurked.

"Quickly, we must relocate" Amadeus ordered the squad as he sheathed his power sword.

"Brother Aldrick move brother Jeremiah away from the prying hands of these traitors" he gestured to the fallen form of one of their squad mates. Slowly, the squad retreated to the south, back into the narrow streets and ruins of their patrol sector.


	10. Chapter 10

Solar days passed, the war for Macragge grinding on, the Chaos attackers having firmly dug in after their defeat outside the fortress walls, the unbowed might of the Ultramarines slowly reclaiming their planet. In his master's absence - until Guilliman decided it was time for him to return from his seclusion as he spoke in private with all those individuals that he deemed important enough - Calgar continued to lead the fight despite his wounds.

Elsewhere in the Fortress of Hera, a short distance away from the main strategium, Azuma quietly waited outside the massive, ornate doors which lead to the Primarch's sanctum, her legs weak and her hands trembling with nervousness. For the past few days, Azuma had passed her time by sparing, reading and meditating. Georgia had already been sent off to combat according to the reports that she'd been able to get her hands on.

Azuma's apprehension was not helped by her long wait outside of the sanctum, her only company being two members of the Honour Guard who were standing as still as sentinels with their ceremonial weapons held at the ready. After what felt like an hour, the Honour Guard turned, pushing open the doors to the Primarch's throne room, allowing Azuma to step forward into the vaunted space beyond.

Behind her, the large cruiser heard the doors slam shut behind her with a loud thunk. Painfully aware of how loud her steps were on the polished stone floor beneath her, Azuma walked closer to the throne.

She saw him sitting there, his face pensive, as majestic and mighty as when she'd first seen him alive in the shrine. To the black-haired woman, the event felt so long ago, even though in actual fact it had been just less than a week since the insane battle.

With no small amount of trepidation, Azuma took the last few steps towards the steps leading up to the throne, stopping to stand stock still in front of the demigod before her. Azuma honestly had no idea what Guilliman wanted to discuss with her. Surely the only thing necessary was a pat on the back for a job well done? After all, she was just a random nobody who'd been dumped in her position by some spiteful god.

Still, Azuma was expecting the Primarch to ask some questions. Chief among which was asking about who the hell she actually was and why she was where she was. So it came as a huge shock to the woman when Guilliman himself started proceedings with a kind smile plastered on his face.

"I presume that you will be wanting a few answers" the Primarch started in a remarkably relaxed tone, immediately catching Azuma off guard with how casual it was. The large cruiser was expecting a grave voice and a serious tone, not this light-hearted relaxed atmosphere. It was strange, but also calming and pleasant.

"Have you done this for Georgia?" Azuma cocked her head and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"I have" Guilliman slowly nodded. "As I said, you deserve some answers. So please, ask away." He finished as he leaned back in his throne, a relaxed expression on his face.

Unconsciously, Azuma nodded her understand as she started to pace back and forth, spending a minute or so ordering her questions by importance. "Why am I here?" Azuma quietly asked, still slowly pacing back and forth before the throne.

"A good question" Guilliman replied. "But before I can give you a clear answer, you need to know what it going on in your reality."

"You mean Earth, from the reality I'm from?" Azuma pointed at herself, speaking slowly to make sure she was saying words in the correct order which was very important when one spoke about different timelines and versions of reality.

"Yes" Guilliman said as he leaned forward, his expression taking on a more serious edge. "You see, your realm has been infiltrated by the agents of Chaos. They are aware of the existence of Ancient Earth and want to see it destroyed before it can form an interstellar empire which could match the strength of the Chaos Gods."

"Why is it important?" Azuma questioned as she stopped pacing and sat down cross-legged on the cold stone floor of the throne room.

"They do not want another Imperium rising from the ashes of this one if we fail in our duty in this reality."

"Do you know about the Abyssals which have been at war with humans on ancient Earth?" Azuma started to fiddle with her long black hair as she spoke.

"I do. The agents of Chaos have seen it useful to ally themselves with them to further their own goals on Ancient Earth to either destroy humanity in its infancy or enslave it to their will."

"Ok…" Azuma swallowed, processing the information. She was well aware of the Abyssal war happening on Ancient Earth from the stories she had been told by her fellow shipgirls. But, if the forces of Chaos had managed to bridge the gap between realms and timelines, then Ancient Earth was really in trouble.

"So why don't you send the Space Marines and Imperial Guard in response?" Azuma furrowed her brow in thought.

"You know the answer to the question" Guilliman lightly reprimanded as he placed his gauntleted fingers together. "There are many tasks that the Space Marines excel at. Fighting on water is unfortunately not one of them."

"So you want me and Georgia as agents for the Imperium? Is that why instead of sending forces you instead send Georgia and myself here for training?"

"Exactly" Guilliman smiled, his expression softening. "You were sent here to train and take part in the defense of the Imperium before being sent back to lead the defense of Ancient Earth."

"You are too kind" Azuma meekly replied, a blush forming on her cheeks, not expecting indirect praise from a demigod of all people.

All Guilliman did was smile more. It seemed that even silent and deadly warriors could still easily charm a woman if they so wished.

Thirty seconds later, and Azuma had once again composed herself, feeling surprisingly refreshed now that most of her more burning questions had been answered in a way that made some sort of logical sense. However, there was still an important one remaining, especially when given the new information that she'd received.

"But when am I going back?" Azuma questioned.

At that, Guilliman sighed. "Unfortunately, I don't know that" he truthfully said. "All of this" he pointed both to himself and Azuma. "Is part of one of my father's many grand plans. I wish I could give you a concrete answer but until I convene with my father in person, I cannot give you any information on that front."

"And when will that be?" Azuma risked voicing the thought in the front of her mind.

"I don't know" Guilliman heavily sighed, Azuma knowing that she shouldn't press the Primarch for any more information. "Plans and schemes which have been centuries in the making are finally coming to fruition with the arrival of you and Georgia. However, many unknowns remain which might impact on the success of this entire endeavour."

"Are there any others apart from Georgia and I within the Imperium?" Azuma tried to steer the conversation away from depressing possibilities.

"There are some that I am aware of, although a few have failed in their missions."

"Will I have to face them when I get back to ancient Earth?" Azuma was now standing again and pacing in a slow circle in the area in front of the throne.

"That is anyone's guess" Guilliman shrugged, servos humming as his armour mimicked his body's movements.

"Fine" Azuma trailed off, running a hand down her hair as she internalised everything that she'd heard in the meeting so far. If she had understood the demigod correctly, the large cruiser had been sent to the far future to protect her version of Earth from a Chaos invasion which had allied itself with the Abyssals already attacking Ancient Earth. And that she, along with Georgia and maybe a few others would be the ones who would rally and lead the defenders of Earth against the terrible threat that they were, or were about to face. It was a big responsibility, especially when coming from a literal demigod, and one which would take a long time to fully understand and accept. Still Azuma felt compelled to do it, and as she glanced at Guilliman giving her an intense look, she knew that she didn't exactly get a choice in the matter either way.

"Ok" Azuma broke the silence after a few minutes, having thought about the frankly insane task that she'd been given. "What happens to me now?"

"Now?" Guilliman repeated the question as he stood up from his throne for the first time in the conversation. "Now you will do your part in the war for this planet and this sector" he said as he gestured to a side entrance, a few serfs appearing from the entrance along with Cawl's auto reliquary.

"While the Archmagos was working on my own set of armour, he was also working on a set for you and Georgia. I was not lying when I said these plans have been hundreds of years in the making. You need to understand Azuma that you are not here by coincidence at all. It was decided that you were meant to be here a very long time ago."

As Guilliman was saying his last piece, the serfs and the auto reliquary had stopped a respectful distance away from the pair.

"There was more in there than my own armour" Guilliman simply stated as the auto reliquary unfurled like a carnivorous flower, revealing a truly exquisite suit of armour. It looked incredibly strong and impossibly ornate with blacks, golds and whites shining in the soft light coming from the sconces lining the sides of the room. Looking closely, Azuma saw that it was also made in a way that naturally accentuated her own bodily curves without sacrificing strength and integrity. It was a masterpiece, plain and simple.

"It was apparently hard for Archmagos Cawl to develop a way for the armour to interface with your nervous system without the use of a Black Carapace" Guilliman's almost casual comment caught Azuma off guard.

"Why is that important?" Azuma tore her eyes away from the suit of armour laid out in front of her.

"You are going to be an emissary, both on and off the battlefield and we cannot have your natural beauty ruined by neutral implant cables, for your talents will have to be used both on the battlefield and in the ball room."

"I do not deserve it" Azuma mumbled to herself, becoming more and more lost as more gifts appeared from the auto reliquary. Azuma was at a complete loss as to why a demigod was offering such gifts up to someone like her.

"You will need to be a shining beacon of humanity" Guilliman pressed replied. "These items will let you do it. And if you feel unworthy, make it so that you are by the time you return."

"Now stand" he continued. "We have spoken long enough and I am sure that you have things that you want to be doing. You will receive your orders within the next day, and from now on you will have to do your duty."

Nodding her head, Azuma giving the Primarch her thanks as she collected herself again, walking out of the large throne room a minute later to digest what had been said in private.

* * *

As for the Primarch, the moment the thick double doors to the chamber swung closed, he dropped his mask, almost falling to tears himself. He was exhausted from staving off the bewilderment and the horror of the last couple of days. Guilliman groaned as he placed his head in his hands, his new suit of armour hissing and humming with the motion.

"Millennia have passed" Guilliman mumbled, not knowing to who he was directing the words. He just knew that he had to vocalise his situation before it drove him insane. It was at this moment that he wished for the second time in a few days that he had one of his brothers to speak with. At least they might have understood what the Primarch was going through.

"Thousands of years" he continued. "And look what has become of them. Of us. Idolatry, ignorance, suffering and squalor all in the name of a God who never wanted to be one."

Guilliman shook his head in disbelief and stood, pacing across his sanctum to stare up at the banners hanging on the walls, each depicting the glories of the Ultramarines.

"We have failed father" Guilliman woefully said, his words tired and heavy with sorrow. "You failed your sons, and we in turn have failed you. And now, we have failed all of them too. Did Horus not say that you sought godhood? He built a rebellion upon that claim. How he would gloat, to see the Imperium now."

Guilliman was furious. He imagined destroying the chamber, tearing it apart and hurling its wreckage around like an untamed beast. He dared not though he wrestled with despair. The Primarch knew that he could not let his weakness show. All the others, they looked at him as though he was the Emperor himself. Guilliman was painfully aware of his symbolic quality, and of how desperate and dark the hour had become.

"Why do I still live!?" Guilliman snarled as he spun on his heel to stare up at the effigies of the Emperor woven into the banners surrounding the room. "What more do you want from me? I gave everything to you, to them. Look what they've made of our dream. This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate and ignorance. We should have let Horus burn us in the fires of his own ambition than live to see this." Even as he uttered the last words of the sentence, Guilliman knew that his words rung hollow.

"There is hope still" the Primarch swiftly corrected himself, turning back to the large armaglass windows. He stared out at the work gangs, labouring to repair the damage to the fortress walls and the Ultramarines standing atop the ramparts. They had all be born into the dark millennium that Guilliman had found himself in, full of suffering and hardship. Yet they all still struggled on despite the countless enemies arrayed against them. Guilliman had lived in a better age. What right had he to show any less strength and courage than his followers?

And even then, Guilliman could take heart in the fact that the seeds of a new Imperium had just been planted in another far-flung timeline. Those two women were testament to that, both Azuma and Georgia taking up the daunting task with barely a word of dissent. They would be hopefully joined, not only by their fellow kind, but also ancient warriors of the Imperium. Some as old and wise as Guilliman himself. The Emperor had chosen who would participate in his plans well.

"Yes" the Primarch murmured to himself. "The future of the Imperium, both in this galaxy and the next is in capable hands."

"All of this misery" Guilliman snarled as he continued. "All of this suffering and pain is not the doing of humanity, but of those who have betrayed it. Too long have the pawns of Chaos dictate our species fate. That must end."

The Primarch felt new strength fill him. Inspired by it, the Primarch took his pain and desolation, and locked them away deep within his mind. He kept his rage though. That he would have a use for. Later there would be time to mourn, to reason and plan. Now was the time to fight though, and to train those that would carry the flame of humanity into the future.


	11. Chapter 11

After hiding the body of their deceased squadmate, Georgia's squad had repositioned and set up in the living room of a once-wealthy habitation unit. The only thing remaining from the lavishly decorated room was rubble, dust, and one completely intact wall.

In the centre of the space, Octavius was hunched over a bulky auspex device, trying to make it work. Hearing the crunch of dust, the Space Marine looked up to see his sergeant looking down at him.

Shaking his head, Octavius rose as he clipped the auspex to his belt. "Inoperable," he said. "The mist is interfering with all our communication and scanning equipment."

"As expected" Amadeus nodded his helmeted head. "We still know our general location within the city and that of the forward operating base."

"What are you suggesting sergeant?" Octavius asked as he cocked his bolter.

"Nothing at the moment, merely that we there are a few options available to us."

"And what of her" Octavius pointed an accusing hand in Georgia's direction who was hunched against the one remaining wall, deep in thought. "Are you sure we can trust an untrained psyker and a woman at that? What is Chapter command doing to allow such a thing to happen?"

"We had no choice in the matter" Amadeus replied. "The order came from the Primarch himself. Remind yourself that she was there in the battle for the shrine. I would not count her out so easily but I do share your reservations. You also volunteered for this if I remember, as did the rest of the squad. What is done is done, let us hope that the Primarch has made the right choice in allowing a woman into our ranks."

"Yes veteran sergeant" Octavius grumbled as he resumed his position with his brothers watching the perimeter of the building, scanning the most likely avenues of attack.

Sighing, Amadeus walked over to the prone form of Georgia. She had her helmet on but he could imagine that her face was furrowed in frustration.

"Any progress?" He asked in what he hoped was a kinder voice over a private comms channel with her.

He received no answer.

* * *

Georgia heard the physical question at the back of her mind. She paid it no heed though as she concentrated fully on her psychic abilities as she broke the barrier into the warp, looking for contact with the Imperial psyker attached to their squad.

However, before her, in the vast energies of the warp stood a wall, a huge black wall as high and as long as her eyes could see. She floated before it, a tiny speck of blinding white light before an impossibly black void. She glided closer to the wall, reaching out a hand to gently prod it.

Searing pain, coursing throughout her physical body. She felt it convulse once as she heard the muddied sound of a bolter being raised and readied. Gritting her teeth, she prepared to force herself through the wall of darkness and hate, trying to leverage her apparently considerable psychic skills to her advantage.

The same result awaited Georgia, only more painful as her soul burned red hot from the action. She pushed away from the barrier to regard it once more in puzzlement and confusion. It had to be the mist that had shrouded the city. The empyrean manifestation of it anyway.

Her body shivered as she felt the tides of warp energy changing. She felt it before she saw it. A figure had appeared from the seemingly impenetrable barrier. It was looking directly at her, smiling.

Georgia gasped in shock as she severed her connection to the warp. Standing up, she shook her head to get her bearings.

"We need to move" She looked directly at Amadeus.

"Clarification?" The sergeant asked.

"While in the warp, the sorcerer from the plaza found me. The Night Lords are tracking our position through me and my psychic power."

"And of communication with the forward base?" Amadeus asked as the squad prepared to move out.

"It's as much a psychic barrier as a physical one. Please, we must hurry, the sorcerer is almost at our position" she hurriedly said as she felt the malevolent presence of the corrupted psyker seep into the back of her mind.

* * *

It was a boring Wednesday within the Houses of Parliament for Neville Chamberlain. It was Prime Ministers Questions so as a front bench member of the Conservative party, Neville was waiting patiently for question time to be over.

Having nothing to do as the Speaker divvied out the questions, his thoughts wandered to the next day. Neville was worried about the upcoming meeting with George who worked with MI5. Neville wondered what a member of the intelligence agency wanted with him. He certainly knew that he hadn't been part of any illicit deals that was for certain.

Further, Neville received a rare message from King Edward IX a few days ago warning him of the upcoming meeting with George. What did King Edward have to do with George? He did know that George was a public supporter of the King, like most shipgirls were. Still, something didn't sit right with him as he sat and pondered on his upcoming meeting.

* * *

Late that night, Joe was working at his small workbench in his small London apartment, making the finishing touches to the earrings which Neville had asked him to make as a gift to a friend. Humming to himself as he listened to some relaxing music, he pulled out the drawings that he'd made to see if the finished products matched up.

They did, that made Joe pleased as he turned up the volume on his headphones as he started to get lost in the smooth, relaxing rhythms of the song. After a few moments, he started to tidy up, trying to make as little noise as to not disturb his friends who he shared the flat with.

Double, then triple-checking that everything was back where it should be, Joe then wheeled his chair over to his laptop to quickly book an early taxi so that he could finally deliver the completed assignment to the customer. Flashing up a list, he crossed off the earrings from his to-do list. Thankfully they were only a few days overdue which made him momentarily smile before scrolling down the list to see all the jewelry which he hadn't even started and half of them were already overdue. Joe was so thankful that the shop that he worked at had such understanding clientele.


End file.
